Veiled Moonlight
by sup phyl
Summary: Sequel to Withering Dawn. After Thomas' tragic encounter with the Duke; he and Jimmy are set on a rollercoaster (yes, a rollercoaster) of terrifying reunions, intruding imposters, old enemies and new, death, hope, heartbreak, and no glory whatsoever, in a desperate bid to survive, as both men try to find out what they really want from life and what matters to them the most.
1. By the Grace of the Moon

**The humour is over. Now back into the chasm of deep intensity I am summoned.**

**It is preferable that you read ****_Withering Dawn_**** before this (for your own benefit) as there will be numerous references to it so having read it will be advantageous and will result in less confusion and more empathy with the plot. The journey for the two main characters is quite psychological so to understand what I am doing and what is going on in the minds of the characters, Thomas in particular, it might be deemed necessary to read ****_Withering Dawn_****. I hope part 2 receives as much enthusiasm as part 1. **

**Please enjoy ****_Veiled Moonlight _****and thank you so much for reading, and any reviews/follows/favourites. **

**Apologies for any spelling/ grammar mistakes.**

**I do not own the characters, or Downton Abbey… unfortunately.**

* * *

"Morning Mr Barrow, how are you feeling? You look much happier today." Daisy came into the servant's hall with a cheery smile which spread infectiously to Thomas' face as he felt a sudden need to extinguish his cigarette and reply to the girl with equally warm spirit.

"I am thank you Daisy. Are you excited about going tomorrow?"

"Yeah, I'm a bit nervous," She said, "but Mr Mason's lovely and it'll be so nice to live with him on his farm."

"I'll miss you." The languid voice of Alfred stilled all cheer in the room.

"Really?" Daisy asked in surprise, for now the kitchen maid Ivy was no longer besotted with Jimmy she didn't think Alfred would have any thought for her, especially after his declaration of love for the girl moments before Daisy decided to hand in her notice.

"Course I will." Alfred said.

"You can come visit on your half day. I can show you 'round." Daisy suggested, her feelings for the second footman still lingering restlessly on her mind, it would be easier for her when she left and was away from the idiot which embodied Alfred's runner bean body.

"Yeah, that'll be nice; maybe Ivy might like to come." Not from one conversation could he keep free the name of the kitchen maid.

"I'll ask her." Daisy said charitably, even though she was envious of the feelings Ivy had from Alfred, she was fond of her.

"No I'll do it." Alfred taking any opportunity to talk to the love of his misspent life, "What are they doing about an assistant cook?"

"I don't know, I mean Ivy's all right so Mrs Patmore should be able to cope without anyone for a while, so long as they don't have too many grand dinners."

"Can't see that happening any time soon." Thomas interjected, knowing that after the Duke's visit the family had grown very cautious when it came to visitors, and there were more and more requests from young men hoping to play suitor to Lady Mary, which upset Mr Carson distinctly, and unsettled the family, for it had not yet been four months since Mr Crawley's death.

"Mr Barrow! Where's Mr Barrow?!" Jimmy frantically entered the room adorned in an apron, holding a silver dish in his gloved hands, face flushed, his head turning every way it would allow in his search to find the under butler.

"All right calm down James I'm here, what's the matter?" Thomas rose from his seat and went over to the footman, seeing the shining object clasped so slackly in his hands he asked in disapproval, "What are you doing running around with that dish?"

"That's the thing Mr Barrow, Mr Carson says we need it for tonight, but there's a watermark on it and I can't get it off." Jimmy held out the offending dish to Mr Barrow, his words formed as a mumble in his state of panic.

"Let me see." The masterly coolness of the under butler already saw Jimmy's heart slow as Thomas took the dish into his long masculine fingers, and examined the side of it carefully. "You've already had a go at this haven't you?"

"Maybe." Jimmy tightened his lips.

"You used too much stuff didn't you?"

"Maybe." Jimmy's expression varied with his responses.

"Fortunately for you it doesn't look beyond saving. Come on." Thomas snaked around Jimmy, handing him the dish back to carry.

"Yes Mr Barrow."

The two men went into the room where all the cleaning materials they would need were kept. Thomas went over to the work surface where he waited for Jimmy to come in and shut the door. The footman set the dish on the table top before raising his head up to Mr Barrow's, those bright shining eyes affixed upon his, allowing the deep look of an untapped romance between them to linger and speak all that words never could, all the pain in their being apart until this moment in this room. It pushed them into the other's arms unrestrainedly, their two sets of lips burning together in the fires of longing which lived only in the passing feeling between their touch, two sets of hands caressing the feel of a warm body in their grasp, aching to be held. The men only parted to catch a breath and smile.

"I love it when you make yourself look like an idiot." Thomas said, tracing his thumb along the footman's lower lip which received a grateful kiss.

"It's worth it to spend some time alone with you." Jimmy grasped Thomas' hand in his to stop it from leaving his lips and he kissed each of Thomas' fingers.

Thomas buried his nose in Jimmy's hair, reminding himself of youth's intoxicating scent to take with him once they left the room. "I shouldn't do it too often or I'll start to think it's not an act."

"Would you mind?"

"Not if you keep kissing me the way you do." Thomas whispered into Jimmy's ear, his breath setting the footman's knees trembling and was glad Thomas could not see the face he was making as it would be revealing of a hidden lust which could not be quenched. His cheek not leaving Jimmy's skin he moved his lips back onto the footman's just as the door came open.

"Whoa, guys!" A female cry emitted through the room, splitting the two men from each other who both wiped their lips and straightened themselves as if the young housemaid had not seen them.

"Victoria, we were just-" Thomas started.

"I know what you were doing, and I told you before; you need to be more careful. What if I was Mr Carson, or worse O'Brien?" Victoria placed her hands upon her hips as she gave her friends a disappointed look, "Just make sure any risks you take are worth it, or at least tell me so I can keep an eye out, and so I don't have to walk in on it." She scrutinised the two men who were shuffling about in embarrassment.

Jimmy was the first to find his nerve, "Well, seeing as you're here, can you-"

"No." Victoria mouthed at them as she left, leaving a dashed expression on Jimmy's face.

"She's right." Thomas drew a hand over his slicked ebony hair.

"Yeah. I hate that." Jimmy stared at the door in an annoyance tugging at him with regards to the girl between love and hate, but only hate in that she would always bear warnings regarding his and Thomas' relationship which were always right and therefore only kept them apart.

"Come on. Let's get on."

"All right." Jimmy agreed as he pushed his lips against Thomas', who struggled to hold him at arm's length.

"I meant work you daft boy!" Thomas playfully slapped Jimmy's shrugging shoulder as the footman took up the unblemished silver bowl to return to the silver cupboard.

* * *

It had been three weeks since Thomas and Jimmy's first kiss (technically second, but the pair decided that since only one of them was awake the first did not count) and all seemed to be going well enough. Certainly as to be expected there were mishaps and close calls, but they were still going strong and determined not to let anything come between them. That first night the pair stayed up talking and making up for all those lost months with words, smiles and touches which were spoken from the heart, not a shadowed drabble of expectancy and correctness, savouring that first spark of romance which filtered through into every corner of their destitute lives filling them with happiness. It was the next night where they had to talk in all seriousness of how their relationship was going to survive, and what they would do if they were caught. Their plan came out as a list of rules; working in service rules were amenable to them. They would always be honest each other even when it meant revealing any slip ups, every night they would go for a walk, night being the only time they could be alone. They would only kiss or touch in each other's rooms or when they were sure not to be seen, possibly in the wood or the vast fields. They would tell one person about their relationship, decidedly the young maid Victoria (who pretty much knew anyway), as it would make it a little easier to bear and make them feel less deceptive. Finally they were not to take any stupid risks; no winking across the upstairs dining table while serving dinner, no hand holding under the servant's hall table, no whispering or lingering looks on each other or crude jokes. They then decided that they would both secretly save some money, so if they were caught and had to leave they would be able to get by for a while, and maybe aim to leave the country. Apart from that there was not much they could plan.

The day after this conversation took place, the third day of their secret association; several rules were broken. They both found it very difficult to keep away, finding just being near each other was not enough, they had to be close to smell one another so at least three of their senses could be overwhelmed by sensations of each other, until the need for the fourth sense of touch became too much, it was only the final want for taste which saw the men tighten their mouths, and Jimmy would put a cup of tea or whatever food was available to his lips, while Thomas forced a cigarette to his, to stay their deprived agony until that night where they would meet outside and kiss under a large bough tree until tiredness beckoned them back to Downton. Where the men would each give a low bow of respect to the night sky in gratitude for the ally of darkness it granted them in protection of their forbidden affair.

* * *

On this night in the present, Jimmy and Thomas were out walking, as per the rules they were semi- bound by. At dinner Jimmy had accidently stroked Alfred's knee under the table, thinking it was Thomas', both footmen were equally traumatised by the experience as a result, and Thomas was now comforting Jimmy whom he was sure had not blinked since the incident.

"It was a mistake; I know you didn't mean to do it. Why would anyone want to touch those knees?" Thomas rubbed Jimmy's arm to guard his petite body from the early November cold as they walked through the trees which faded as silhouettes into the darkness of the night.

"I just never thought it would be this hard; not to touch you when I walk past, to not tell you how gorgeous I think you are, or kiss you every time I see you."

"Don't you think it's just as hard for me? But we can't, Victoria was right, if anyone sees-"

"I know, I know." Jimmy nodded wearily. Remembering back to that time he was in the kitchen with Ivy, the way he could touch her cheek and complement her and no one would bat an eyelid, all he wanted was to do the same to someone else, what difference was it that that someone was a dark, intelligent, sophisticated man?

"We might have to be a bit more distant, I think some people might already be starting to see it." Thomas confessed, bringing fresh worries to the footman.

"I see. Who?"

"The usual suspects; Mr Bates, Mrs Hughes, Mrs Patmore; which isn't so bad," The senior staff tending to be more discreet and tolerant in personal matters than the more excitable younger members of staff, "but I worry about Miss O'Brien, if she finds out I don't know what will happen." Thomas said glumly, mulling over the possibilities in his mind.

"Didn't you say you had some secret you could hold against her?"

"Yeah, but that won't stop her messing up what we have, because we couldn't speak against her without telling anyone about us." Thomas considered, the importance of having to keep their affair secret from this one woman could very well be a bane on their lives.

"I guess. We'll just have to be careful; we can go for more walks. "

"We walk every night."

"Maybe during lunch we could nip out?"

"They'd get suspicious."

"I don't know then." Jimmy's train of thoughts had reached a disappointing end, and then severed with an expressed wish, "I wish we could go away somewhere together."

"Blimey, we just talked about being careful and you want to take a romantic break?" Thomas scoffed, pressing his lips to the footman's head. Every time they discussed something which could turn into a quarrel Thomas would cool down an uprising of the youth's temper with such a kiss.

"There must be somewhere we could go, maybe in London?" Jimmy asked, expecting Thomas, with all his worldly experience, to know. He was grateful for that in his older lover, as this way they weren't both a pair of inexperienced bumbling fools who would not know what they were doing, it would be fine in a heterosexual relationship, but not an illicit one, it comforted Jimmy to know he was being guided by a man, wise to the ways of those like them, it even made him feel safe.

"There are places; underground places where people like us can go, I suppose it would be wonderful for just one evening to be able to grip your fingers, dance with you, and kiss you while other people watch." The very image brought a smile to Thomas' lips; it was a dream for him that had visited his sleep many times before.

"If only we could get the time off." An impossible feat which blocked both of their dreams for the foreseeable future.

"I don't see it happening." Thomas reluctantly agreed. Sensing the youth's quiet Thomas suddenly felt guilty, that he had dragged this beautiful boy into his world, away from normality and any chance of happiness, which was clearly missed. "Jimmy? Are you happy?"

"Course I am."

"I mean are you happy with me? Do you wish maybe that things worked out with you and Ivy?" Thomas hated asking this, but he cared about Jimmy more than anything in the world, and would bring himself to let him go if it made him happy.

"The words that come out of your mouth sometimes Mr Barrow." Jimmy shook his head. Knowing that Thomas' thoughts were not so serious that he should stop a kiss from breaching his gentle lips, Jimmy held Thomas' face in his hands to show his want for him as their lips stilled against each other. Jimmy whispered a phrase, a phrase he had been thinking of all day, which sounded so pathetic and yet found it necessary to communicate to the man in his hands. "Before you came along nothing existed. Now everything exists. Because you are everything."

The response came in a grin at those words which flowed with the beauty of the speaker; a beauty which Thomas would die to preserve. "You are poison Jimmy Kent. A kind worth taking."

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed this opening chapter. Thank you again for reading.**


	2. Notes

**Reviews/ follows/ favourites are so appreciated and always make my day, so thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you. **

**Apologies for spelling/ grammar mistakes**

* * *

The couple returned upstairs after their moonlit walk, but when Thomas went to his room, ready to bid Jimmy good night, he found the footman was attached to his back as he followed him inside his room and closed the door behind them. Thomas bit his lips together and breathed through his nose in nervousness at what it was that Jimmy might want.

"Maybe I could stay with you tonight?" Jimmy asked, unaware that Thomas was breaking into pieces before his eyes at the implications of his question.

"Don't you think that's risky?" Thomas hid behind the sagacity of his experience.

"I think all of this is risky."

"Not tonight Jimmy." Thomas insisted, going across the room away from the footman, not even removing his coat, feeling more secure with it on.

"Why not?" Jimmy took steps towards Thomas.

"It's dangerous, and I think we've taken enough risks tonight, what with fondling Alfred under the table."

Jimmy shuffled in embarrassment at his mishap earlier, and couldn't argue it wasn't a dangerous thing to have done, but he was nonetheless determined to capture some normality in his relationship with Thomas in absence of everything else they had to miss out on. Liberality being the main factor. Thomas could not refuse him all the time after he was the one who turned down his suggestions, 'strangely enough' they both thought. "Fine, but I would like something in return."

"And what might that be my prince?" Thomas taking a mock bow to Jimmy.

Jimmy could not help but blush at this description of himself, "I want us to try passing notes during the day."

Thomas' head fell to the side in exhaustion at Jimmy's persistence, especially as it presented itself in such a girlish notion, "Jimmy Kent you are impossible."

"You wouldn't have me any other way." Jimmy grinned as Thomas allowed the footman to wrap his arms about his waist.

"Well I don't know about that." Thomas kissed his nose affectionately, his insides ceasing their claim over his nerves for the moment, "What if someone saw? Or worse, found one?"

"We always sit together at dinner, we could easily get away with it if we slid it under the table, and we won't put our names on them or anything, no one will know."

"What if you accidently give it to Alfred?" Thomas' jibe earning him a slight pinch in the side.

"I don't think I'll make that mistake again. It'll be so much easier, just to have your words burning into my pocket, a little piece of you." Jimmy brushed his lips against the older man's cheek persuasively.

"Wouldn't you rather settle for a vial of blood?"

"I'm being serious." Jimmy shook the under butler from his mockery of him, "Please. Just one day, if anyone suspects anything we'll stop. I just want some kind of normality. Just one day."

The glistening in Jimmy's eyes showed just how much this small thing meant to him. "All right, one day, see what happens. Why is it so hard to say no to you?"

"Because I'm just too pretty." Jimmy declared, Thomas not being able to disagree with him, "I'm going to bed to let you think about what lovely things you can say to me."

"How considerate." Thomas said sarcastically.

"Good night Mr Barrow."

"Good night Mr Kent." Their lips touched lightly in signature of their parting as Jimmy left Thomas to get ready for bed.

Thomas felt he had to give in to the footman because he felt guilty. He felt guilty that he could not let Jimmy stay in his room, let him remove his shirt, or get too close, because only then would he see, he would know that Thomas could go no further with him, because every time they got close he remembered the Duke. A hand striking his face, being forced into the bed post, hands on his naked body, wet kisses on his skin, movement inside him. He relived those moments every time Jimmy moved towards him in the prospect of intimacy. That first night, when Thomas was saved from the Duke, he could pretend it had never happened, but as time had passed the nightmares came and memories haunted him. Thomas hated himself, he wanted to be with the footman so badly it was maddening, but even if he could bring himself to for Jimmy's sake; he would be unable to participate, as he had not been able to function since that day. He would not tell Jimmy, he could not. It was made far more difficult as the youth had been saying things to him under the cover of the woodland trees; of touching his skin, to kiss his chest, and see him undress. Imaginings that in the past would have made Thomas soar with joy, instead made him crease up inside, but he did not allow that feeling to show through his features, and he would only reassure Jimmy with a kiss for he could not do so with words. To preoccupy his malicious thoughts he took up a pen and a sheet of paper from his chest of drawers and began to write.

* * *

Thomas awoke early the next morning from a night's sleep no better or worse than what he had endured every night the past three weeks. He was alone downstairs, the place was so quiet and empty, he needed it to be so as he stood outside the wine cellar, the key turning in his hand thoughtfully, as a villain about to commit a crime, he stared at the door as if there were some great danger lurking behind it. Thomas had a past with stealing, and nearly got sacked for it, could he take the same risk now over just one bottle? But the possibilities for that one bottle were so tempting, even just the idea that a single sip would lighten the burdens of his mind drove him on. The key was in the lock, his hand upon the door, he stopped, he heard thumping. Was it his heart, beating in protest? When the sound was accompanied by voices he drew his hands away, like he had forgotten his reason for being there at all, and went, leaving the key in the unlocked door.

He went to the servant's hall where Jimmy was stood near the entrance and greeted him with a fractured smile. He remembered his finished note was dwelling in his pocket and discretely withdrew it, thinking now to be a good time as he saw no one about, and placed it in Jimmy's hand who curled his fingers about it and grinned like a child. He knew he should wait but he couldn't, he wanted to think the rest of the day of the words which lay against his breast. Going into the corridor he unfolded the piece of paper and melted inside as he read the black inked words. He was so absorbed by that one line that he did not see Alfred come up behind him and with his long arm reach over Jimmy's back and snatch the paper away, making a dash for the kitchen before Jimmy knew what had happened.

"What's this?" Alfred waved the paper about the kitchen as Jimmy caught up with him, no doubt he selected his spot where he would humiliate Jimmy the most; there being the most people in the kitchen. Some friend this guy was.

"Give it back!" Jimmy cried in anger.

"What's that?" Ivy asked, as Alfred held the damaging paper out away from the reach of the shorter footman's grasping fingers, the kitchen maid took the note unawares from Alfred's outstretched hand, and recited the words upon it, "_Your smile mends the cracks in my broken heart_. Who wrote that?"

"I saw Mr Barrow give you that." Alfred said; no doubt the malingering git had been spying on them.

"What's going on in here?" Victoria came in, hearing the tumult as she was heading to the servant's hall for breakfast.

"Jimmy has a love note." Ivy sneered at the footman who she once held feelings for, before he literally ran away from her after taking her out and kissing her.

"A love note?" Victoria exchanged a look with Jimmy, who was standing tensely.

"From Mr Barrow."

It was Victoria's turn to be tense as she feared for her friends, though she could slap them both for their foolishness. "What are you talking about?"

"I saw Mr Barrow give it to him." Alfred turned his nose up at the blonde.

"After I gave it to Mr Barrow." Victoria cut in smoothly.

"You what?" Jimmy's eyes widened at the girl's lie.

"May I have the note please?" She went to Ivy, who handed her the note without question, out of sheer shock, "Thank you." Victoria tucked the note in her pocket and went from the room, to sustain an appearance of humiliation, sparing Jimmy a heartening look as she did so.

"Well I never would have seen that coming." Alfred said, brushing himself off.

"Are you by chance talking about the whipping you're going to receive if you don't keep your antics out of my kitchen?" Mrs Patmore announced herself as she waddled in, no doubt concluding that the three servants were up to no good as they usually were when they were left to their own devices.

"Sorry Mrs Patmore." The youngsters vocalised, remembering their professionalism.

"It'll be well weird without Daisy here." Ivy said after a brief period of silence, as she started gathering ingredients for the upstairs' breakfast.

"I know. When I came in I thought she'd be stood there." Alfred indicated to the other side of the kitchen island, the room seeming distinctly different without the assistant cook who had been practically part of the furniture, "Mrs Patmore, who's going to replace her?"

"That is up to Mr Carson when he asks his Lordship to place an advertisement. Why, do you want to apply?" Mrs Patmore asked cynically, leaning on the counter with a hand on her hip.

"I might." Alfred uttered with a trodden sincerity.

"Alfred? A cook?" Ivy examined the specimen before her sceptically.

"I know a good deal about cooking." Alfred replied to Ivy's taunt.

"And you'd look good in a pinny." Jimmy interjected bitterly before leaving; in relief at the close call, in gratitude at Victoria's wit, in panic someone should realise the truth, but mostly in happiness at Thomas' words he had etched into his mind.

* * *

The day had passed very tentatively, as a result of her lie Jimmy had to have words with Victoria and she offered to help the couple in their venture of passing notes, understanding their want for some romance between them during working hours, and her mediation would minimise the risk they were taking. The only down side was now she had to maintain the illusion that she had feelings for Jimmy, which was easier said than done for the poor girl who was known to be a close friend of Jimmy's, so they had to actively avoid each other until an appropriate time had passed where their circumstance could be seen as naturally developing instead of as Victoria's construction. When Jimmy told Thomas that evening, when they returned from their nightly walk, he was not pleased.

"She did what?"

"I know." Jimmy nodded in disbelief himself at the girl's selflessness. Laying his head upon Thomas' chest as they led on his bed in embrace, still fully clothed.

"I told you it were risky. We were bloody stupid, couldn't even last one day."

"I know." Jimmy could not say more through his guilt as it was he who suggested it in the first place, and his handsomeness that swayed Thomas into submission to him.

"Thank god Victoria were there, but she can't continue to take that risk for us." Thomas' conscience made him say.

"The damage is done now, may as well carry on so long as we're careful." Jimmy spoke Thomas' true thoughts.

"Imagine if she weren't here… Well I wouldn't be here to start with."

"We're not going to talk about that ever, or that man. He's your past, I'm your present." Jimmy raised his head to Thomas' and pressed his lips against his, to banish any thought of the Duke, and any alternate realities involving him, from his mind. Thomas gripped Jimmy's biceps, which tensed as the youth raised himself forward to envelop more of Thomas' lips in his, his nose burying into the under butler's cheek.

"God you're beautiful." Thomas whispered as space formed between their lips.

"Not so much as you. '_Your smile mends the cracks in my broken heart'_." Jimmy repeated the words Thomas wrote to him earlier. Jimmy placed a forearm to rest behind Thomas' neck so he could hold himself just where he was, his face hovering over Thomas', close enough to feel their words ripple against their lips.

"I know, it's bad."

"No, it's perfect, you're perfect. I don't know how I'll come up with something."

"You will. After all it's your turn tomorrow." Thomas drew a strand of Jimmy's hair between his fingers.

"Can't I just kiss you?" Jimmy smiled cheekily, he may have been the one to suggest the whole idea but now it was pressurising.

"I don't think Mr Carson would like it." Thomas said, picturing the butler's face while he and Jimmy exchanged kisses rather than notes at the servant's table. "Not that I'm objecting." Thomas prompted him. Jimmy relaxed himself to lie flat against Thomas' torso, their chests moving against each other as they breathed. Jimmy caressed Thomas' face with his hands while the under butler clutched at Jimmy's back, pulling him as close as he dared as they shared a kiss. Jimmy inserted his tongue into Thomas' mouth and it proceeded to dance with the under butler's. Wants entered Jimmy's mind, and Thomas could sense it as he felt Jimmy growing hard against his leg, wishing to join him there but doubting if he could. Jimmy stroked his hand down Thomas' chest and fiddled with the top button on his shirt, just as he slipped it through the hole Thomas' hand grabbed his, stopping him from continuing. Jimmy gave him a troubled look.

"I'm sorry, I'm a bit tired. Do you mind if we call it a night?" Thomas said; his breathing quickening.

"Yeah of course. Are you all right?" Jimmy asked, worried he had moved too fast. Even though Thomas had not apprised him of his troubles Jimmy suspected that it could be possible that Thomas might find it difficult to be intimate with him, but he thought he would have been more comfortable with him after three weeks, that is if his words to him were genuine of his affection.

"I'm fine; just need some rest, been up late with you the last few nights." Thomas faked his excuse.

"You're just getting older." Jimmy smiled, kissing Thomas on the forehead before showing himself the door, "Good night Thomas."

"Good night darling." As soon as the door closed Thomas looked down at his body in shame, envying the vitality of the youth who he was forced to send from him so he would not know of his shame; lying there as a useless tool. Burying his head in his pillow he cried himself into a deep sleep, where no doubt the Duke would be waiting for him.


	3. Black

**Thank you for reading. I know I brought in Thomas' pain very early, but I'm no good at fillers, just full on relevant stuff, and I didn't think it would make sense to suddenly announce his trauma in a later chapter as it's meant to be obvious in his character (particularly in his relationship with Jimmy).**

**Please enjoy... if you can.**

**Thank you for any reviews/ follows/ favourites :D**

**Apologies for any spelling/ grammar mistakes.**

* * *

Thomas heard the final note of a scream as he shot up from his bed. He was cold, he was perspiring, his body was coated in sweat, his clothes clung to him. Thomas mopped his brow with the back of his hand which proceeded to shake through his hair. His breathing was hastened, he looked nervously about, expecting the shadows to fall upon him and ravage him; a cruel yet expected end to his ceaseless nightmares. He closed his eyes when he found he was alone and breathed steadily through dried lips. Glancing at the clock, it was just gone three, the moon shone brightly through his window, beckoning him to come forward. He obliged to its call. He removed his sodden night clothes and opened his window, letting the cold breeze tunnel through into his room and entomb his naked body in its wake. The cold pricked at his skin, goosebumps formed, he curled his fingers but they were almost rigid, he was so cold, yet his heart pounded in some deathly heat. He fell onto his knees, not having the strength to stand, and gazed into the crater-eyes of the moon as they stared aghast back at him, he felt so small, so vulnerable, so weak.

Black.

* * *

Thomas awoke, he was stood outside the servant's hall, he was fully dressed, his hair slicked down to his scalp as it should be. He could not remember how he got there, but there he was, his morning was a routine, he knew it without flaw, so he could manage it without thinking. Just as he could bathe himself, walk down the stairs and sit to breakfast. After that, when there were any number of possibilities to which he had to apply his mind, he was stuck. The way was barred to him. No sound to guide him.

He was pushed forward as a hand collided into his back, the force amplified by his lack of mind to it.

"Jesus!" He cried out, jumping away from the figure behind him, who turned out to be a rather startled Mr Carson, "Oh, I'm sorry Mr Carson." Thomas said, straightening himself for his superior.

"I should think so…" The butler began, before he saw the dark rings encircling Thomas' eyes, sinking deeper into his bright white skin, "Are you all right Thomas?"

"Yes Mr Carson, I'm sorry, I didn't sleep well. Nothing to worry about." The under butler unable to stretch so far as to raise the corners of his mouth into a smile.

"So long as you're sure?" Mr Carson said slowly, it being a rare occurrence for him to feel concern for Mr Barrow.

"What was it you wanted to speak to me about?" Thomas desired something to distract his mind from all that was going on in there.

"Oh yes, there were two things actually, it seems that Alfred, thanks to the intervention of Miss O'Brien, has been given a trial as Mrs Patmore's assistant cook for four of the days while the ladies are in London visiting Lady Rosamund. So I'm afraid you will have to step in as a second footman."

"Very good Mr Carson; and the second?"

Thomas' compliance at Mr Carson's request only gave the butler more concern for his subordinate's health, which made it more difficult for him to say what he had to next, "Well, I don't want to imply anything, but when I came down yesterday morning I saw the key was in wine cellar door, and I was wondering if you had gone down there or know if anyone else has?"

Thomas was reputed for taking wine in the past from the cellars, it was many years ago but no doubt the butler would suspect him above anyone else. "No, Mr Carson, and don't worry I understand why you'd come to me. Is all the wine accounted for?" Neglecting to tell Mr Carson that it was he who tried to get in there in the first place.

"It seems to be, but of course I haven't checked the entire store, and I don't like having to just because someone left the key in the door."

"That's understandable."

"Yes, carry on Mr Barrow."

As Mr Carson vanished from sight Thomas leaned against the wall and clutched his chest, "Thomas? Are you all right?" Victoria, having noticed the under butler there, came up to him, stopping her hand from placing itself upon his back.

Thomas nodded, "Yes. That is… am I still seeing you tonight?"

"Of course. I'll meet you outside. Same time." The maid's hand slowly came across Thomas' vision so as not to startle him when it rested softly upon his arm.

Thomas gripped her fingers tightly, feeling a touch of paper scraping against his hand; he knew the maid was holding a note to him from Jimmy. His words and Victoria's kind touch being just what he needed at that moment. He smiled at the girl and choked, "Thank you."

* * *

Thomas put his mind to his work and slowly the light shone through the cracks, blotting out that darkness which visits upon him at the rising of the moon. So when Jimmy came to his room that evening Thomas was able to put aside his fear of falling asleep that night and just enjoy the footman's embrace as they lay on his bed.

"Jammy devil." Was Jimmy's response as Thomas relayed Mr Carson's message to him from earlier that day regarding Alfred's trial in the kitchen.

"At least he'll be out of our hair for a few days."

"Whoever heard the like of it; a male cook in Downton Abbey?"

"You know you'll be carrying the sauce while Alfred's in the kitchen." The under butler held no illusions that Jimmy would accept being demoted for those four days.

"I'm first footman!" Jimmy cried in objection.

"Who do you think you're talking to, the scullery maid?"

"Well-" Jimmy cocked an eyebrow cheekily as he looked over the figure beneath him.

"Cheeky beggar." Thomas ruffled Jimmy's hair playfully.

"Come on, let me serve the meat. Please. I thought you cared about me." The footman gave Thomas his best set of puppy dog eyes and swirled his finger on his clothed chest.

"Shut up you daft boy, you know I do, but I have a reputation to uphold."

"I'll make it worth your while." Jimmy closed the space between their faces, leaving his mouth open to tempt Thomas towards him with his breath.

"How do you mean?" Thomas kept his reserve.

"Well, are you tired tonight?" Jimmy leaned into Thomas' neck and planted a firm kiss into his skin. Thomas wanted to close his eyes and savour the sensation but if he did he would lose the image of the footman upon him and it would shift into something terrible, someone terrible. His preoccupation caused him to ignore Jimmy's wandering fingers roaming down, but the feel of fingertips prising up the rim of his trousers jerked his hand reflexively to Jimmy's. "Does sauce really mean that much to you?" He blinked worriedly as his eyes darted about the room before landing on the footman's face.

"No, you do. I want to make you happy." Jimmy's hand, now free, brushed Thomas' hair adoringly.

Thomas had to talk his way out of this, to convince the footman that they shouldn't do this. "We don't need to yet. I know what we do, when we do it, will be your first. I know you'll need time and I don't want to rush you. There's no pressure."

"But you've done stuff with other men." Jimmy said, careful not to specifically mention the Duke.

"Yes, but they didn't mean anything to me, like you do."

"So you'll do more with someone who means nothing, than with me?" Jimmy argued.

"It's about trust Jimmy, and not taking advantage, because what we have goes beyond the physical."

"But isn't it all part of it?"

"Of course, but there's no need to rush. I just want to make sure you're taking this step when you're ready and not before, because I couldn't bear it if you regretted it after." Thomas spoke for them both.

The footman put his hand on Thomas' hip, to indicate that should Thomas want him to he would pull himself into him, such was his own desire. "I'm taking that step now."

"Over sauce."

"I was nervous. I just wanted to make it fun rather than serious. Thought it would be easier."

"This is what I mean, you shouldn't have to make it easier; if you're ready it should just be easy and natural. No worries. Do you understand?" Thomas explained to the youth who looked at wall to think about what Thomas was trying to tell him.

"I think so."

"Good." Thomas sighed, and put his arm around the footman who sank into his chest and listened to his heartbeat, which he noticed was unusually fast.

"Where do you and Victoria go every day?" Jimmy asked.

"Just out, talking." Thomas said uneasily.

"What about?"

"The usual sort."

"Like what?" Jimmy pressed.

"For god's sake Jimmy will you leave it?!"

This outburst sent Jimmy from Thomas' body as he sat up on the bed. "All right, calm down, I were only asking."

"I'm sorry my darling," Thomas rubbed his eyes, "I'm just tired."

"You're tired a lot lately."

"I can't sleep, for thinking of you." Thomas quickly thought, knowing flattery was always believable when it concerned Jimmy, "Come here." He beckoned the youth back into his arms, "Also thank you for your words."

"You got my message then?"

"Yes." Thomas stroked Jimmy's hair back and kissed the skin of his now exposed forehead.

"Victoria is a gem. You know she's a very good actress," Referring to the maid playing her part convincingly as a girl with a crush, "She could give _you_ a run for your money, I actually have to remind myself she's not attracted to me. But I don't like pretending to feel awkward around her."

"Just be your usual charming self, if you're not that's when people might suspect something. It'll also take the pressure off of us a little bit." Thomas conjectured.

"So long as I don't have to go out with her."

"I don't think she'd like that anymore than you would." Thomas laughed.

Jimmy prodded him at this insult before nestling his head into Thomas' shoulder. "My note was pathetic wasn't it?"

"Not at all, _I can smile at every breath, knowing a moment has passed which brings me closer to being with you again._" Thomas dictated, having burned the paper in the fireplace as soon as he committed the words to memory.

"Yes well-" Jimmy twiddled his thumbs on Thomas' stomach.

"You're very sweet." Thomas reassured him, "Bloody childish mind, but sweet." He pressed his lips to the footman's forehead and laid his cheek upon the golden blanket of his hair in contentment, wishing he could just stay awake in this moment until his eyes closed only through necessity.


	4. A Male Cook?

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* * *

As Jimmy made his way back to his room he was beginning to think that Thomas was avoiding intimacy with him. All they had done is kiss, fully clothed, and sometimes even that led to him being shown the door with some excuse from Thomas that he was tired or had a headache. Jimmy did not mind waiting, but he minded that Thomas seemed so put off about the whole idea of getting closer to him. He had some idea of what the Duke did to him, but not to what extent, could it have been worse than he imagined? Not that he wanted to imagine it. Surely Thomas would have mentioned it to him, Jimmy thought, he wouldn't keep that from him. Would he? Jimmy had thought about asking the under butler, but it was a difficult thing to talk about and he didn't want to embarrass Thomas or force him into talking about something he was not ready for. Maybe he should return and apologise. But had he done anything wrong? There was no way for him to know. Undressing for bed, he put his head down upon his pillow and thought of Thomas, he was like chocolate; dark, smooth, and seductive, and had an urge to be covered with it. He played through his mind what should have happened that night in the under butler's room following that kiss; if Thomas hadn't stopped his hand from reaching down. Unable to stop himself, his mind brewing with such vivid thoughts, he reached down under the covers into the front of his bottoms and did the only thing he could think of to relieve his tension at having been rejected for the second time in two days.

* * *

The next few days had not improved for Thomas and Jimmy, with downs balancing the ups. However one positive movement was Alfred's trial in the kitchen, as this meant the couple did not have to see him so much, and though they did not like to speak positively of the footman, even they had to admit (between themselves of course) that he wasn't doing too badly.

"I can't find it Mrs Patmore!" Alfred cried, rummaging around the various food stuffs and equipment lying about the work surface before him.

"It's right in front of you, you clown!" Mrs Patmore turned from her position at the stove and pointed to a box of eggs sitting under a tea towel. Alfred grabbed them and hastened over to Mrs Patmore, but collided into Ivy, the eggs falling from his fingers and splattering across the floor.

"Did you just drop me eggs?" The cook shrieked at the lad.

"Sorry Mrs Patmore. There are still a couple." Alfred salvaged three which remained intact from the fall.

"Lucky for you a couple is all we need. Now serve this up quick before Mr Barrow comes back."

"Yes Mrs Patmore." Alfred set the eggs down carefully beside the cook, who handed him a saucepan of sauce, which he took to pour into a china jug

She raised her eyes to the ceiling and mouthed, "Why? Oh Lord?" Not that she thought Alfred was doing all badly for his second day; just the odd mistake she was not used to having been made when Daisy was there. Mrs Patmore could finally breathe, as she and Alfred now had plenty of time to complete the upstairs' dessert; a delectable chocolate and nut gateaux, which Victoria begged Mrs Patmore for a slice of should there be any left over.

Even though the cook enjoyed having Alfred in the kitchen, as he was terribly eager to learn from her, her patience was wearing thin as he still wouldn't leave Ivy alone. Jimmy decided after the first day that he would be merciful to Mrs Patmore and be straight with the lad; telling him to ease off Ivy or Mrs Patmore won't want him in the kitchen with her. He did find much to his surprise that, for the first time, the beanpole listened. It was because of that that when Mr Carson asked Mrs Patmore for her verdict she told Mr Carson to put an advertisement out… for a new footman.

* * *

"That's that then, we're getting a new footman." The gravel beneath Thomas' feet crunched in time with Jimmy's stomach as the under butler told the footman that there was to be a new Alfred, and Jimmy was getting paranoid.

"What if the new footman's prettier than me?"

Jimmy's vanity caused Thomas to slowly turn his confused features to the youth, "Then we've come across a miracle."

"What if he's better than me?"

Thomas' shoulders fell dead under the weight of the footman's competitiveness. "Then we'll keep him in his place. Anyone has to be better than Alfred, which I won't personally mind."

"True." Jimmy said, though he was still worried; imagining a broad shouldered, Hollywood picture star serving up the sauce, doing magic tricks and singing in baritone to the maids.

"It'll be fine. Don't worry about it." Thomas placed his arm about Jimmy, grinning at the youth's eye visibly twitching. "Mr Carson says that some of us might be able to have some time off."

"Really?" Suddenly the twitching stopped and Jimmy's eyes brightened at the thought of spending time with Thomas in the day. What plans they could make!

"His Lordship is going to London to spend the weekend with Lady Rosamund and the other ladies, so there will be no need for all the staff to remain just for Mr Branson."

"Won't he have some sort of jobs for us to do?"

"The house will only be empty for a couple of days, there's not much that can be done in the time, but we may have to give up a half day." Thomas shrugged, not finding that much of a sacrifice to make; he was pleased that Jimmy agreed.

"A happy sacrifice if we could go to London, where we can be together in those places you talked about." Jimmy slid his arm around Thomas' waist and squeezed him before he had to come away as they had arrived back at the servants' entrance.

"I'll talk to Mr Carson." Thomas removed his hat as they wandered in, shaking his hair from the feeling that cold air still clung to the ends of it.

"What reason will you give?"

"I'll think of something." Thomas said confidently.

"You always do, now if you don't mind I'm going to take advantage of having an early night." Jimmy excused, as he seemed to be staying up into the early hours with Thomas as of late.

"Yes, you'll need to catch up on that beauty sleep before the new footman comes along."

"Jerk." Jimmy elbowed the under butler in the ribs before his tone turned serious, "You should get to bed too, I worry about you."

Thomas drifted away from him into the servant's hall, so the exposure of his response would mean the avoidance of questions about the footman's concerns, as Victoria and Ivy were both there. "I'm fine. I'll be up soon. Good night Jimmy."

"Good night Thomas. Ivy. Victoria." Jimmy nodded to the two girls who similarly acknowledged him with his name, but Victoria accompanied it with a wink, remembering her part well. Thomas sat down at the table next to her; she was eating the remainder of the chocolate- nut gateaux from upstairs, no doubt Mrs Patmore had been kind enough to save her a piece, while Ivy cleared away the cups left by the servants before bedtime.

"I should stay away from him." Ivy said to Victoria as the footman went out of sight.

"Why?" Victoria asked, in between chews of the delicate chocolate sponge.

"He'll just take what you've got and run. No word of a lie."

"I wouldn't mind that. He's good looking." Victoria swallowed her cake to prevent her from spitting it up at her false blandishments.

"There's more to men than looks."

Suddenly Victoria felt very shallow, even in falsity, "Of course, the point is I want to know what more he's got." Ivy gave her a disappointed look before taking the tray of dirty cups to the kitchen. As her footsteps quietened enough Victoria put her free hand against her forehead and said to Thomas, "I don't know how long I can do this for."

Thomas couldn't help but take some amusement from the show the girl was putting on, but he took her hand from her forehead and kissed it lightly in gratitude so she knew that his true feeling was guilt. "You're doing marvellous; don't think that we don't appreciate it."

"I know. Speaking of which, do you have anything for me?"

Thomas rummaged around in his pocket and slipped a note into the hand he was still holding. The maid took it and pushed it into her dress, without reading it, and she would pass it to Jimmy tomorrow. "Thank you." Thomas said.

"Yeah, you're welcome." Victoria said half- heartedly, as she plunged her fork into the cake and took a much deserved bite. "Damn I'd sooner go after Alfred if it meant eating like this every day," Marvelling at the new piece of cake she hurriedly cut herself on the end of her fork.

"Cor blimey, you feeling all right?" Thomas looked at the girl, not believing anything could possess her to speak such things, let alone cake.

"Try a piece and you will be at his mercy." Victoria turned the fork to the under butler, waiting for his mouth to devour the sweet on the end.

"I'd be risking me health enough thanks." Thomas pushed her wrist away from him.

"How so?" She asked, consuming the gateaux on her fork. Not turning her attention as Miss O'Brien walked in and sat down at the other end of the table.

Thomas didn't seem to mind either as he answered, "When I eat nuts I get a strange reaction, I get all itchy and come up in blotches. It's called an allergy. Haven't you noticed that Mrs Patmore never makes anything with nuts for the servants?"

Victoria chewed slowly as she thought back, "Now you mention it-" It was true, Mrs Patmore only ever used nuts for the upstairs food, "Can it be fatal?"

"I don't know. It's never been that bad, I still have to keep epinephrine in me bed side drawer just in case. There's nuts in a lot of things these days."

"Wow. I almost feel sorry for you." Imagining all the different kinds of foods he had to avoid eating and all the precautions he had to take.

"Only almost?"

Victoria smiled as she cleaned her plate, feeling very sorry that Thomas could not enjoy such pleasures as a chocolate-nut gateaux, but not minding that she could have it all to herself. "While we're here, do you want to..?" Being careful not to say too much while the vulture was in the room, circling for gossip.

"Would you mind?" Thomas asked, also aware that Miss O'Brien had stopped what she was doing; a sure sign that she was eavesdropping on their conversation.

"I'm insisting." Victoria tapped Thomas' hand. "I'll get my coat."

Thomas went outside to wait for her, not sparing any words for Miss O'Brien, while Victoria collected her plate and cup to take to Ivy, passing behind Miss O'Brien who said, without turning, "I know what you're doing."

"Excuse me?" Victoria had heard what the ladies' maid had said, but was rather demanding an explanation for such a perfunctory statement.

"Nothing. Nothing at all." Came the monotonously icy reply.

Suddenly, Victoria felt threatened, and as she went to Thomas she knew she would have to keep an eye on the ladies' maid, who she believed, didn't mean nothing.


	5. A Sackable Offence

**Thank you for reading, I hope my portrayal of Thomas' emotional trauma can be thought of as realistic, I so want to do such a horrible issue justice. Thank you to those who have reassured me that I am doing just that :)**

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* * *

The next morning, as soon as Thomas saw the butler head into his office he made his move, sliding himself through the door as it closed, without a sound, startling Mr Carson as he looked up from his paper. The butler, luckily for Thomas' purpose, seemed to be in good spirits that morning so felt every confidence in asking him for time off, but his confidence was misplaced, as he soon discovered.

"I'm sorry Mr Barrow but it's just not possible." Mr Carson said.

"May I ask why not Mr Carson?"

"If one of you were to go I could manage, but you and James all the way in London, I could not possibly allow it. May I ask why this desperate need to go to London all of a sudden?"

Thomas looked down and licked his lips, bracing himself for what he was to say, since the incident with the Duke it had not been mentioned downstairs, and now to suddenly bring it all up again was painful, but he had to do it. "To be honest with you Mr Carson, I haven't been quite right since what happened with the Duke… since he-"

"I see," Mr Carson cut him off, not wanting or needing to hear more, "and you want some time away?"

"That's about the size of it Mr Carson. Yes."

Mr Carson sighed, and strummed his fingers on the desk in deliberation, but only in how he was going to let the under butler down after hearing this confession, "I don't want you to think I'm unsympathetic to you Thomas, your situation is… despicable, but I cannot let both of you go on such short notice. I'm sorry."

"I see."

The under butler's disappointment added to Mr Carson's guilt, prompting the butler to say, "But if there is anything I can do here to make things any easier for you-"

"No, no it's all right Mr Carson, thank you." Thomas did not mind the work, it took his mind off his problems, though since he had not been sleeping well he did feel exhausted; the lesser of two evils in his book.

There was a small rap on the door and Mrs Hughes came in, she looked at Mr Carson and Thomas and could see she had disturbed them, "Oh, sorry Mr Carson I didn't realise you were with Mr Barrow."

"That's quite all right Mrs Hughes. If there is nothing further Mr Barrow-"

"No, thank you Mr Carson." Thomas gave a nod of respect to his superior and drifted out of the room, as the door closed behind him Mrs Hughes commented on the under butler's dejected expression.

"He looked a bit put out."

"He wanted to go to London with James overnight while the family are in London; I said it was quite impossible. Anyway what seems to be the problem Mrs Hughes?"

"It seems Mr Branson found something rather curious in his bedroom this morning, and I thought you ought to know about it."

* * *

After talking to Mrs Hughes, the butler led her into the servant's hall where all were assembled waiting for breakfast. Everyone stood as Mr Carson came into the room, who addressed them as soon as he stopped at the head of the table.

"May I have your attention everyone? In Mr Branson's bedroom this morning there was a note, of a romantic nature, in his room, need I say that this is highly inappropriate and had caused him some distress, I want to know if any of you know anything about it." Jimmy looked at Victoria in wide eyed panic, while Thomas and the housemaid kept their composure but took a sharp breath as no one in the room spoke. At least not until Miss O'Brien decided to conjure a storm.

"Victoria's been writing little notes, haven't you?" The ladies' maid said, "To young James."

All looked at the housemaid, who curled her lips inwards and bit them together to restrain her emotion. She couldn't understand what was going on, but was quick to believe it had something to do with what Miss O'Brien said to her last night. Mr Carson was in shock, for he would not have expected such behaviour from the young girl, who was deemed to be sensible and respectable, especially in light of her actions in helping Thomas be free of the Duke. "What? Is this true Victoria?"

The maid held her hand out, ready for the worst, "May I see the note Mr Carson?" The butler came down the table and hovered above her as he placed the note in her hand. She read the writing, she remembered not reading it, but hearing it from Ivy's lips in the kitchen, it was the first note, why was it in Mr Branson's room? It did not matter, either way she had to confess; she looked at Thomas and Jimmy who were watching everything from across the table, the men were longing to hold each other's fingers in place of their own which they rubbed together in anxiety. "Yes. I did write it. I'm sorry Mr Carson. It must have fallen out of my dress when I was cleaning in there." Victoria admitted, not without shame.

"I think we had better continue this in my office." Mr Carson stipulated, as he gestured for the girl to move out from the table and leave the room. She smiled at Thomas and Jimmy, as if to tell them everything would be fine, as she was taken away by the butler. Everyone at the table sat down, and it was only at the mercy of Mrs Hughes that what had just passed was not to be discussed over the breakfast which Thomas and Jimmy would find hard to eat when their friend's future could very well hang in balance because of them.

Victoria did not re-join the servants for breakfast, to avoid the looks they would no doubt give her she wished to continue on with her work, it was only because Thomas left the table and forced her to stop and talk to him that she would say what happened in Mr Carson's office.

"I need to apologise to Mr Branson and stop writing notes. But it's fine." The girl said, much to Thomas' relief.

"That's it?"

"Yes. Don't worry." Victoria placated him.

"Thank you, Victoria." Thomas said, with sincere gratitude that the girl had risked herself so openly for his and Jimmy's foolishness.

In response the girl placed herself on tip toes, kissed the under butler on the cheek, and whispered into his neck. "I wouldn't do it if I didn't care about you."

Before Victoria could lower herself the under butler had wrapped his arms around her. "We care fo you too." He said to her, speaking for Jimmy also, letting her down he asked if he might see her later for one of their chats. To which she ominously replied,

"We'll see."

* * *

Victoria refused to eat dinner with the staff; once again she was worried about the gossip and the looks, even though Thomas reassured her that anyone who did so would get a strict warning from himself. Instead she asked Mrs Patmore for one of the pastries she had made for dessert and took it upstairs. The maid's absence was unsettling for Thomas and Jimmy as they shared in the guilt that it was their relationship that had resulted in Victoria's humiliation, and Thomas knew what that felt like. The girl did not come down after dinner, which was unusual, and Thomas started to worry as the maid always made time to talk to him every day. Except today. When he took in his evening walk with Jimmy he only felt more anxious to go and see the maid and make sure everything was in fact all right, but he could not go to her bedroom, especially since she shared with another maid. He would have to wait until morning. As the hour grew late Thomas and Jimmy came inside they went up to the under butler's room so they could lie down together, but as Thomas opened the door he saw a piece of paper lying at his feet.

"What's that?" Jimmy asked.

"I don't know." Thomas picked up the paper, and read the words scrawled across it. After but a second he put his hand to his mouth and cried, "Oh my god, she's gone."

"What?"

"Victoria. She's been sacked."

"That can't be right; she said it was all fine. What does she say?" Jimmy tried to peer over the note and read it but he could not make out the words from where he was stood, so Thomas recited,

"_My Dearest Thomas,_

_I am so sorry for lying to you, but I knew that if I told you the truth of my dismissal that you would stop me, and in doing so tell Mr Carson the truth about you and Jimmy. That is something I could not let you do. Please do not feel badly, I want this, as I told you earlier; I would not do this if I did not care for you both very much. I am happy with things how they are and would not have them change. My only regret…" _The under butler stopped.

"Thomas?" Thomas did not answer, but kept reading to himself intently. "Thomas?"

Thomas took a breath before continuing_. "I go to stay and work with my parents in London at their guest house, the address is on the bottom so I hope you will write to me and maybe come and stay if you are allowed. I know my parents wouldn't mind. _

_Don't let my sacrifice be in vain; cherish each other every day. But no matter what happens I will always be here for you, I will always be your friend._

_All my love,_

_Victoria_

_Ps Tell O'Brien 'well played'"_

"O'Brien?" Jimmy repeated, wondering what Victoria meant, but Thomas' mind worked faster when it came to evil deeds.

"She must have planted that note, she knew Victoria were helping us, that the note Alfred took were from me. Damn her!" Thomas unintentionally screwed up the paper in his hand and slammed his fist into his thigh.

"So she knows about us." Jimmy's heart began to race at what this could mean.

"I guess she does."

"Oh my god!"

"Don't worry about it, if she was going to say anything she would have."

"Oh my god she's been in my room." Jimmy suddenly realised.

"What?"

"Victoria returned the note to me after Ivy took it, and I put it under me pillow, when I came up it were gone, I didn't have chance to look, I thought it had fallen under the bed-"

"She took it."

"Why? Why would she do this to Victoria- to us?"

"Because she hates us, and is punishing Victoria by being our friend. Either that or she were trying to expose us." Thomas paced about in a small circle, trying to make sense of these events, "You shouldn't have kept that note, you should of burned it. How did she find out about it anyway?"

"I know that now! No doubt Alfred told her. It's not like I thought anyone would be rummaging around in me room."

"You were wrong weren't you!?" Thomas shouted.

"Calm down Thomas."

"No! We can't let Victoria do this! It's not right."

"And do what? Tell them the truth? We'd be gone, without a reference; at least she has a job elsewhere." Jimmy reasoned. "You know how much I care about her, but there's no way this could have worked out well for us."

"I can't believe it's come to this. Maybe if we weren't so god damn foolish in the first place-"

"I know, but she's gone, and we can't come clean. You know that." Jimmy held onto the under butler's arms to still him, as Thomas rubbed his forehead with his fingers. "I wish this had never happened, but it has, and there's nothing we can do." He waited for the under butler to say that he understood, "Thomas?"

"I'd like to be alone a while, if that's all right."

"You're not mad at me are you?" Jimmy asked, worried that Thomas thought he was being insensitive.

"No. I'm sorry I just need to be alone a while." Thomas held Jimmy's head to his lips in reassurance.

"All right then. Night love." Jimmy kissed Thomas' hand as it released him.

"Night darling."

Once the door had shut, and he was alone, Thomas re read the letter which was still in his hands, especially the part in the middle which he failed to recite to Jimmy:

_'My only regret is that I will no longer be there to help you both, and be there for you, Thomas, in the way I am every evening when we have our little chats. I worry that I leave you alone, with no one who you can truly open up to about what it is you are dealing with. I can only hope that maybe this means that you will be able to tell Jimmy the truth about what really goes on in your head. It will not be the same in a letter, but you can write your thoughts to me if you need to. Otherwise I beg you to find someone whom you can trust enough to help you carry your burdens_.'

Fighting the onset of tears, Thomas tore off the address at the end of the paper to keep in his bedside drawer, and made his way downstairs to burn the rest of the letter, in case O'Brien decided to pay his room a visit.


	6. Solitude

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* * *

The morning after next, Alfred was still immersing himself in the fact that he had discarded the livery of the footman and had adorned the apron of the kitchen assistant. He was thrown slightly as Ivy did not seem thrilled by his continued presence there, even though he had been good (by his standards) and kept his distance from her.

"Are you pleased that I'm to stay in the kitchen?" He finally decided to ask her.

"I think we could have a laugh, so long as you keep your distance mind, I don't need a telling off from Mrs Patmore." The maid said as she wiped down the counter which was covered in breakfast things.

"This is what I always wanted, to work in a kitchen. I can't tell you how pleased I am." Alfred smiled as he removed some dirty utensils from the counter.

"I'm happy for you." Ivy said genuinely, the discussion of jobs reminding her of the housemaid Victoria, whose dismissal was now known to all by way of Mr Carson who announced the matter over breakfast. "I don't think it's right about Victoria being sacked, do you?"

"Yes, I do, right unprofessional what she done." Alfred said bluntly.

"I guess, but I don't think she should have been sacked for it. Though I did warn her mind to stay away from Jimmy." The girl not missing a chance to show any kind of superiority over the well thought of housemaid, though she was at least pleased that Victoria did not succeed where she failed and managed to secure a place in the first footman's heart.

"She should have listened to you."

"It's too late for that now." Ivy shrugged.

"Well it's upset Mr Barrow no end, he's been a right grump since she left." Alfred had observed that the under butler had withdrawn even further than usual, even towards Jimmy, being short with everyone, not stopping to give anyone the time of day and ploughing straight on with work, and he gave anyone a stern talking to whomever spoke of Victoria's sacking.

"They were right close. Think maybe Mr Barrow were sweet on her?" Ivy raised the corner of her mouth impishly at the prospect of some juicy gossip regarding the guarded under butler and his inferior young blonde housemaid.

"Mr Barrow? Sweet on Victoria? I don't think she's his type." Alfred framed his words carefully so as not to tell Ivy that Mr Barrow would never be sweet on Victoria because she's a girl.

"Why not? They have similar minds, and Mr Barrow got on well with her, and he doesn't normally take an interest in girls."

"That's what I mean."

"What are you on about?" He saw the look in Ivy's eyes asking for more, but he could only stutter back.

"Yes Alfred, what are you on about?" Mr Barrow himself appeared at the entrance of the kitchen as the youngsters stood there guiltily, the under butler's eyes freezing them where they stood.

"Mr Barrow, didn't see you there." Alfred swallowed.

"Apparently not. What are you talking about?"

"Just about Victoria leaving." Alfred knew he would get in trouble for this, but not so much as for what he was really planning to say to the kitchen maid.

"What of it?" Mr Barrow's eyes widened in contempt as Alfred licked his lips, trying to recall just exactly what of it he and Ivy were discussing, "I'm waiting Alfred. What do you have to say about Victoria leaving?"

"Nothing Mr Barrow." Was the easiest answer the new assistant cook could give.

"Good, and it better stay that way." The under butler stormed from the room and headed outside where he hastily lit a cigarette and fell back against the wall, the warmth of the smoke and the cold morning breeze contrasted beautifully against his face into a numbness, and he felt at peace for just one moment.

"All right there Mr Barrow?" Miss O'Brien intruded. The under butler scowled as he had not noticed the ladies' maid there also enjoying their shared habit.

"What does it matter to you?"

"I suppose it doesn't."

Thomas threw down his barely consumed cigarette to leave this wretched woman's side. "Oh, I forgot, I have a message for you, from Victoria."

"For me? I wonder what it could be." Miss O'Brien seemed sincere in her curiosity.

"She says, 'well played'."

The pair exchanged a look that they both knew exactly what the housemaid meant in her letter, but they were still determined to play the ignorant. "What does she mean by that? 'Well played'?"

"I'm sure I don't know."

"If you write to her maybe you ought to ask. You two were very close weren't you?" Miss O'Brien drove her crime home. How could anyone be so full of hate for someone who had shown him nothing but kindness? Though of course that was how; kindness.

Jimmy came outside at that point, looking for the under butler and saw intensity between the two senior staff members and grew worried of what was passing between them; could Thomas have confronted her about her knowledge of their relationship? A question unanswered as it was in fact the ladies' maid who went inside for the express purpose to deliver the parting comment; "I'll leave you lovebirds to it." It was there confirmed; she knew. Thomas made to return inside, ignoring the blonde who blocked his path.

"Thomas? Thomas what's wrong?"

"Nothing." The under butler brushed him off.

"Can I see you tonight?" Jimmy asked, yearning for some time with his lover who sent him away the night before for reasons unknown to Jimmy, after avoiding him all day, Thomas neglecting to answer any questions on the matter.

"No. I'm sorry, I feel a little tired."

Jimmy's heart sank as the older man once again found a way to push him further away when all he wanted to do was help, but he knew of Thomas' strength and trusted him to tell him the problem when he was ready. "All right. Let me know if you change your-"

"Thanks." Thomas moved past the footman who was left to stand in under butler's spot and wonder where the man with whom he had changed his life for had gone. He once believed Thomas loved him, but he had never said the words and would not express it physically, Jimmy was not sure himself about such a feeling he had towards Thomas, as love was something he'd never experienced, but he knew that what he felt for Thomas was strong, stronger than anything he'd ever felt. He thought back to that time he and Thomas play fought at the servant's dining table, before they were together, and the happiness there as they gazed into each other's eyes, the moment was so powerful it stopped the world from turning, Jimmy just wanted that back, but something had changed, the under butler's eyes had darkened, devoid of the life which once made them shine and set Jimmy's heart aglow, and his cheer was almost forced. Where did his Thomas go? And more importantly; would he come back?

* * *

Night approached just as the day would soon come again; another twenty four hours of repressed agony and memory, and Thomas could not sleep. He dare not. A restless soul, he was not safe in his own mind. Fear consumed him.

It was here he needed her. He needed her shoulder, the shoulder he had leaned on every day for the past month, her ears that listened, her voice which counselled him; her compassion which kept him sane. But she was gone, and wasn't coming back. He was alone. How could he return to speaking to the darkness? Cry with no one to console him? How could he live knowing that he would have to hide until his emotion mounted into a force that would destroy him? He could feel them assembling now. That same pain in his mind that tells him it's too much, that it's here, the time has come, there was no way out except this. There was no way out. The time has come.

* * *

He sat in the dark. Alone. A glass. Empty. A bottle. Full. The liquid stood still so innocently. Even the words upon its body were enticing. It stood on the table casting a looming shadow, a ray of natural light reflected upon it, drawing his eyes. He dare not touch it, once he passed that point he could not go back. It was terrifying, such a small decision which could affect his life in its entirety, just so he could control the tempest in his mind. His eyes brightened as red seeped into them behind a screen of tears which clung to his eyes, except just one which hung from beneath his eyelash, not releasing him from its grasp, but he could not wipe it away. He was glad there was not a mirror, as the form that he would see in its reflection, the exposed shell, was not him, and it would frighten him into surrender to this devil, and crumble. He gripped the bottle in his hands and considered the possibilities, he felt more nauseous than he did before; that he could not cope without alcohol coursing through his body; like he feared he would lose his mind if it was not. He was pathetic. It was that thought which made him uncork the bottle and a waterfall of blood like liquid flooded from its opening. It was too late, and when he put the glass to his lips and felt the sweet sensation of its contents, he wondered why the hell he paused. With each sip the weight of his head grew heavier, he felt himself topple slowly, his mind absent to all, including the half empty glass in his hand, except to the grooves in the wood of the table before him. If he weren't conscious of the mess, he would have let the glass slip through his fingers and give in to his need to fall upon the wooden floor and sob into the planks. He was so weak. He did not hear the creaking of floorboards and the presence of the housekeeper who entered the servants' hall.

"Thomas? Whatever's the matter?" Mrs Hughes came up to him, "Is that from the cellar?" She asked as she caught sight of the opened bottle of wine on the table, which Thomas had not been quick enough to hide.

"I'm sorry Mrs Hughes, I'll replace it." He said through tears.

"Do you know much that costs?" Mrs Hughes sat down beside him.

"No, I'm sorry." Thomas dropped his head to his chest, not wanting to see the look the housekeeper was giving him as he feared she would see how vulnerable he had become when words alone were too much to be spoken.

"Do you want to tell me about it?"

"I don't know what you'll think of me."

"Haven't we been here before Mr Barrow?"

Thomas looked up at this and saw the kind features of the housekeeper, the same expression as over a year ago when his livelihood was threatened after kissing Jimmy in his sleep. She had spoken for him then, she helped him escape the Duke but a month ago, surely she could help him now.

"I can't cope Mrs Hughes... this place is suffocating me. I can't sleep, I can't think straight half the time; I can't… function." She didn't know what he really meant by this, but it didn't matter. "Everything's falling apart and I don't know what to do."

"Have you been to see Dr Clarkson?"

"No."

"Maybe you should."

"I can't Mrs Hughes. I just can't." Thomas wiped his eyes, he would have gone to the doctor's if he were not so ashamed, he could not go, it was too hard. No matter what kind of person he was before or now he never put his problems onto others, never reveal his hatred for himself which burned more fiercely now than ever before. He could not show that to others or else he feared he could never turn back.

"Mr Carson said that you wanted to go to London with James. Would it help if I arranged for him to let you go for a night?"

"You'd do that?" The under butler had never heard anything so glorious, it couldn't be true.

"Well you're no good here if you're going to carry on like this and drink us dry. I think it would do you good to get away from Downton, leave those memories behind, sleep in a different bed, and enjoy yourself with a friend. After all Victoria's in London, you two were close weren't you? You could go and see her."

"I don't know what to say Mrs Hughes. That would be wonderful, thank you, thank you." Thomas smiled and Mrs Hughes placed a hand on his which he squeezed in gratitude for her understanding.

"Now, what do you say we return Lord Grantham's wine to the cellar and get you up to bed?"


	7. London

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* * *

Thomas thought he had strayed into a long forgotten dream the next morning when Mr Carson summoned him into the office and told him that he and James were allowed to go to London the next day for a night. Thomas didn't know how Mrs Hughes managed to do it and he didn't ask, but he was elated, especially at the news that she had also managed to arrange for Thomas to have that day off as well on top of the fact that she had kept Thomas' wine theft to herself as well. It may be down to his disturbed night's sleep but Thomas could have sworn he saw a halo about the housekeeper's head. The under butler was overwhelmed with the understanding and compassion he was being shown by his superiors, something he rarely expected from Mr Carson who managed to keep his reserve about letting two of his staff go away overnight, when he originally forbade it.

The first thing Thomas did when he heard the news, was ask Mr Carson if he could borrow his telephone. The butler left him alone, and as the door shut Thomas bounced on his tip toes (the nearest thing to jumping in the air with joy he could make), and made a phone call to the Blossom Guest House in London, where he asked to speak to one Victoria Watts.

Having secured accommodation for the night in London, Thomas was so pleased that when he sat next to Jimmy at breakfast he forgot all risk and squeezed the footman's knee under the table, he grew worried that maybe he made the same mistake as Jimmy had before and the knee he was touching was someone else's, but the feeling of slender fingers interlocking his own, reassured him that it was the young blonde beside him. Both men smiled at their plates as they shared a thought that they now knew each other's touch so well, and Jimmy could have laughed that his lover was not pushing him away, and maybe things were getting better. Thomas delivered his good news to the footman here as he whispered, "I told you I'd sort it out." The blonde smiled out the corner of his mouth which Thomas could see and said back, "I never doubted you would." The possibility of being free from his torments for just one day brightened Thomas' outlook on everything, and even though he was given the day off, he was determined to find some work downstairs, to keep his mind occupied.

* * *

Jimmy was alone in the servants hall polishing off silver, while Thomas stood in the doorway, leaning against the wall rebelliously, arms folded, and drew a line up the back of Jimmy's unsuspecting body with his eyes, while the younger man hummed deep melodious tunes which knocked Thomas' heart. The under butler pushed himself from the wall, turning to make sure no one could see what he was intending to do, and he came up behind the footman and gripped his sides. Jimmy lowered the silver and bit his lip, falling into silence, knowing the under butler's sensual touch was upon him. He emitted a small moan as he felt Thomas' warm breath on his neck and moist lips pressing into his skin. Jimmy's head fell to the side, at the mercy of Thomas' lips, exposing his neck, which strained for more of the older man's slow sweet kisses. Jimmy wanted to sweep the silver from the table and take the under butler right there, but he had to restrain himself, and keep it for London. Thomas squeezed Jimmy's sides before moving next to the footman, taking a cloth and rubbing the next piece of silver. They moved over to the other side of the table so they could see if anyone was watching them as the pair could exchange loving glances, lingering touches, and flirtatious whispers. Thomas endeavoured to make up for those lost hours with Jimmy by helping him with such tasks downstairs so when he distracted him with talk, Mr Carson could not complain that the work was not getting done. It was made all the more bountiful that Alfred was not there to scowl at them in their enjoyment of each other's company, and the idea that they might be able to do such things in London only made them eager for the day to pass, even if it meant an early night apart from each other. But Jimmy did not mind, it was worth it to see his Thomas return to him that day and the thought of him still being there the next.

* * *

Thomas slept easier that night. He was restless, woke early, and it took him a long time to drift off, but his nightmares were not as affecting, when they showed. He was able to sleep through them this time, and between their brief resurgences were happier images of him and Jimmy, and the possibilities of what might be awaiting them in London, including Victoria. He was worried about telling her how he had let himself slip the night before in stealing the wine, as he of course had to tell her, but knew she would understand. It was something he would be ashamed to confess to anyone, though that was not the only reason he neglected to tell Jimmy of the incident. As with everything, he thought Jimmy was too young and naive about the real world to truly understand and be able to deal with tough situations like this, and Thomas had enough trouble preserving himself without having to worry about Jimmy.

The couple caught the first train out the next morning, all that was available was a first class compartment, but they didn't mind as it allowed privacy for them to hold hands throughout the journey and to discuss important matters, such as Jimmy's quest to buy a new suit.

"Can't believe I have to use all me savings to buy a flamin' suit." Jimmy complained.

"You wouldn't get in otherwise."

"That up market is it?"

"Course it is. A hell of a risk starting up a business like that, you need to have the right clientele, make sure the profits are worth the dangers."

"So how do you know about this place?"

"I used to work there, just after me dad kicked me out. I were wandering about the streets and hit a bar, a bar for our sort, this bloke came up to me, we got talking. I told him me situation and he offered me a job, said I'd look good waiting table in tight trousers."

Jimmy couldn't suppress a lusty grin at imaging Thomas in such a garment, which was awarded with a light tap on the cheek. "How long were you there for?" The footman asked.

"Two years; before one of the regulars offered me a job in his household. I went back from time to time when I was valet to his Lordship and he would go to London. Don't get funny mind if I see anyone I know and I get a proposition, because we are both guaranteed to get some."

"Not when they see we're together." Jimmy kissed the older man on the cheek, staying close to him for a moment after to take in his masculine aroma, which smelt of so many things but only one stood out to Jimmy; the scent of Thomas.

The under butler stroked Jimmy's cheek, enjoying the footman being so close to him without pressuring him, and did not mind that the blonde's hand was on his upper thigh. "I think that would just encourage most of them."

"Really?"

"These places are made to accommodate the dangerous and the wild, they build it into the atmosphere, their business thrives on it, so they encourage it, they will play loud and tantalising music to get you going, get you drunk, send men to seduce you. It works, because when you're surrounded by other people who have fallen under the same spell, who will take the risk and be open, then you find you abandon all your instincts and you just take whatever you want."

"So long as you keep your instincts."

"Lucky all I want is you." Thomas pressed his lips to Jimmy's into a desirous kiss, as the pair luxuriated in the feeling of freedom and happiness they were both truly experiencing together for the first time.

* * *

The pair disembarked off the train when they arrived in London, they stood outside the station where they waited for Victoria, who had offered to meet them at the station in order to escort them to her parent's guest house. After a few minutes a figure came bounding towards them, using one hand to keep steady a hat upon her head she weaved among the hoards of people coming to and from the station, and threw herself into the arms of Thomas, who after a quick embrace immediately drew her away from him as he was still displeased that the girl had given up her job for them and didn't tell them. Amongst all the thank yous and apologies, on both sides, Thomas demanded an answer to his question of 'why?' All she had to say in response was; "You'll see at lunch."


	8. Victoria's Reason

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* * *

It was when Victoria took Thomas and Jimmy to lunch in a lovely little place in Covent garden that the answer to the long contemplated question; 'Why is Victoria so invested in the illicit affairs of two men?' was revealed, and it came in the form of a young man in his mid- twenties who practically galloped over to the three when he saw Victoria there, the girl standing to welcome his embrace. The pair exchanged kisses and compliments while Thomas and Jimmy examined the young man who held delicate features, flawless complexion, blue eyes, and the brightest blonde hair they had ever seen which flapped freely as he bounced excitedly. Their attention then turned to a second man who was approaching them. He was older than the first, around thirty years old; his face was more masculine, as defined by his stubble, which was as dark as the glossy curls which were kept tidily to his head with pomade.

Victoria greeted the second man with similar enthusiasm to the first, before realising her former colleagues were waiting to be introduced, "I'm sorry, Thomas, Jimmy, this is my brother Luke."

The blonde man, Luke, outstretched his hand to Thomas, then Jimmy, in greeting, "So nice to meet you both at last. Victoria's told me so much about you."

"Not _too_ much I hope." Thomas smirked as he gripped Luke's hand enthusiastically.

"And this is Darren," Victoria indicated to the brunette stood patiently by, "who is _like_ a brother to me." Darren took Thomas and Jimmy warmly by the hand before they all sat around the table.

"Victoria told us about your situation, I can't tell you how happy we both are that it worked out for you." Luke winked as he took a seat between Darren and his sister.

"Thank you," Thomas glared at the girl who was looking about the room innocently, "I'm afraid you have the advantage over us."

"You didn't tell them anything about us did you, sister?"

"No, I didn't. I didn't want them to think I was only helping them because of you, and besides I love hearing you tell this story. I never quite do it justice."

This story Luke began to tell, much to Victoria's joy. "I work in the Ritz as a waiter, and as I was starting a shift I saw Darren and his employer in the restaurant. My heart stopped, I couldn't breathe. I strangled my colleague to tell me just who this mystifying customer was but all he said was that the table was reserved for a Mr Arkwright the tailor and his employee. Before I could do anything about it they had left. Anyway I couldn't get this mysterious employee's face out of my head, so when I finished my shift I went to Arkwright's and looked through the window and I saw him. So every day for the next three months I went that way to and from work, just to get a glimpse of him. I was possessed, but I never had the courage to go in and speak to him, nor did they come back to the restaurant; I didn't know what to do-"

"What Luke didn't know was that I saw him at the Ritz that day and I was instantly taken by him," Darren took over the narration, "I even asked Mr Arkwright if we could stay a while longer, even if I could just capture a better image of his face, though I knew I would recognise him if I saw him again, but unfortunately we had to go back to work. Like Luke I went back to the Ritz to find him as soon as I finished work, but he had left. I kept thinking about him and I went in the Ritz whenever I could on the off chance he might serve me, but I found I just couldn't speak to him; I couldn't even let him see me there when he was working, though I was so desperate for him to. Then, after three strenuous months, he came into Arkwright's. I practically begged Mr Arkwright to let me measure this _stranger_, as unfortunately he was just that to me at the time, and I was only in training back then, but he let me do it and well I made a right mess of it I was so nervous, but when I asked Luke why he wanted the suit it… changed my life."

"Why? What did he say?" Jimmy asked, leaning forward in his interest.

"He said; 'I'm a waiter down at the Ritz, and three months ago I saw the most exquisite vision I had ever laid eyes on, and ever since I have been working up the courage to speak to him, I stayed up all night working on just what to say to him' my heart stopped at that point, I think I actually died, don't know whether it was from hope that he might be talking about me, or heartbreak at the thought he wasn't, but I just asked him again, 'surely a young attractive man like you doesn't need a suit to win this 'vision's' heart?' and he said, 'maybe not, but buying a suit was the only excuse I could think of to come in and talk to him.' I fell in love with him right then, that's if I hadn't already fallen before."

"That's a lovely story." Jimmy relaxed back with a smile, thinking of his and Thomas' story and wishing their union was more like the other couple's.

"I didn't believe it myself at first," Victoria said, "because Luke always has enough courage to do anything, and those three months after he first saw Darren he wouldn't shut up about this 'mysterious tailor', but no matter how much I pushed him to go and speak to him he would say that he was too scared. That was when I knew, my older brother had finally fallen in love. But I still had to go with him, didn't I Luke? You were so nervous."

"I'd never done anything like that before, and well, look at him," Luke gestured to Darren's features, the brunette scratching his temple lightly in modesty, "Who wouldn't turn into a mess when speaking to him?"

The conclusion of the story saw an exchange of glances between Thomas and Jimmy, who now understood why Victoria was so eager for the four of them to meet, and the reason she was willing to get herself sacked on their behalf.

"So Victoria, are you and Luke close?" Thomas was curious to know.

"Yes, very, except he doesn't dance with me anymore." The girl pouted at her brother.

"When am I supposed to dance with you? But I'll tell you what, next time there's a fancy ball in town we can dance our waltz."

"Done." The siblings shook hands.

"So what have you got planned for today?" Darren asked the couple.

"Strangely enough I need to buy a suit." Jimmy replied with a smile at all the talk of suits.

"Oh, that's lucky." Victoria remarked, "Could you help him Darren?"

"Don't think I can afford a tailored suit." Jimmy said.

"What do you need it for?" The tailor asked.

"Thomas and I are going out on the town apparently."

"Oo you could come to L'Abri? I could pull some strings for you?" Luke suggested, L'Abri being the downstairs bar in the Ritz, frequented by men in high society with 'unusual' tastes.

"Thank you but I used to work at Cavour so I thought I might take Jimmy there." Thomas told him.

"Very nice." Darren nodded in approval, "Do you come from London then?"

"No, but when I left home I came straight here, I heard there might be more opportunities for shameless men like us." Thomas adjusted himself in his seat, finding that he was strangely relaxed being in the company of another male couple who seemed to be so happy and at ease with themselves and their situation, even in a crowded cafe.

"How did you end up at Downton then?"

"I wanted to go into service."

"Well, good for you." Luke said, "I'm afraid we enjoy our small sense of liberality here too much to leave it." Liberality Thomas could not help but be envious of as he looked at Jimmy, who was completely absorbed in hearing of it. "In fact we want more, not less, we've been talking of going to Berlin."

"Still talking about Berlin?" Victoria rolled her eyes, "I know it's great for people like you, but Darren doesn't speak German, and yours isn't perfect."

"Darren is learning, aren't you?"

"Ja!" Darren grinned boyishly.

"Once we've perfected it we're going." Luke insisted, though Victoria was clearly not convinced, or she didn't want to believe her dear brother was going to leave her to live in another country, either way she was keen to change the subject.

"Anyway Darren, can you help Jimmy out? You'll need some more commission to afford your trip." The last comment meant snidely for Luke.

"I'm sure I can find you something in the shop Jimmy, rich folk often send suits back once they've done with them after the occasion they're made for and we rent them out or sell them. I'm sure we'll have something that fits, and I can get you a decent discount."

"Sounds perfect, Jimmy. Why don't you go with Luke and Darren, if they wouldn't mind?" Thomas exclaimed, looking over at the couple, asking appreciatively with his eyes for their compliance.

"We'd be delighted!" Luke practically beamed at the opportunity to dress up the handsome footman.

"Don't you want to come?" Jimmy asked Thomas, with wilting eyes, after all they were in London to spend time together.

"Who's going to watch Victoria, and make sure she doesn't meddle in anyone else's lives?"

"How rude!" The girl hit Thomas on the arm with her napkin in offence.

"Don't worry Jimmy, we'll look after you I promise. Unless you really can't bear to be parted from Thomas. Though looking at him I can see why you'd have trouble." Darren gave his bold lover a derogatory look, but he seemed to be accustomed to this kind of behaviour from Luke, who shot him a beautiful smile, the expression never seeming to leave his lips.

"I think I'll survive without this dark horse for a couple of hours." Jimmy said, touching the side of Thomas' leg with the back of his fingers to let him know he would be missed, "That's very kind of you. Thank you."

"So if we eat and meet up later at the guest house?" Victoria put the plan to the table.

"Sounds like a plan." The men agreed as they opened their menus to order lunch.

* * *

Darren and Luke took Jimmy to the tailors after they ate, it was a small place but with a friendly atmosphere, and Mr Arkwright was happy to see his employee had brought him a customer who he wouldn't have to tend to personally as Darren and Luke requested to do it. Jimmy left everything in the couple's hands as he didn't know what kind of place this 'Cavour' was, but the couple told him they had been there many times and so Jimmy trusted them to pick something for him to wear that Thomas would feel proud to walk into his former workplace with. It seemed to be a painstaking process but eventually the two men ushered Jimmy into the fitting room where they dressed him in various suits, trying various combinations, until they found the perfect one.

"How do I look?" Jimmy asked them as he tried on the fourth ensemble. He knew how he felt; very comfortable, more comfortable than in livery anyway, he could hardly believe this suit fell in his budget.

"Looks like we need to lock the door."

"Luke!" Darren scolded his lover, before turning to Jimmy, "You look stunning."

"Oh, and _I'm_ being inappropriate." Luke crossed his arms.

"I was paying a compliment, you were being filthy."

"So it looks good?" Jimmy repeated.

"He won't know what hit him. Speaking of which, do you need any… advice?" Luke approached the footman and gave him a suggestive glance.

"About what?"

"Well Victoria said this is all a bit new for you, you know; men. So do you need any pointers about what to do?"

"Luke you're embarrassing the lad." Darren spoke for Jimmy's face, which turned a deep shade of red.

"I'm just asking. I would have liked someone to have given me some advice before we uh-"

"Thanks but it won't be necessary." Jimmy tried to smile, though Luke was right; he wouldn't mind some advice, just not from two men he had just met, no matter how much he liked them. Also with the way things had been between him and Thomas in the bedroom Jimmy couldn't see him needing such advice for a while yet.

"Sorry if I overstepped." Luke apologised.

"That's all right, you're like your sister."

"It's true, you are." Darren agreed as Luke made a move to oppose such a claim, instead he decided to pass some advice to the footman anyway, knowing that he would have rejected his offer as a matter of pride.

"Jimmy, I'm not going to lie, it will hurt the first time, a lot, but after, you will never look at or even think of a woman again."

"What's a woman?" Darren asked quizzically.

"See."

"Thanks fellas." Jimmy was torn between feeling excited at the prospect, or downhearted on what he was missing.

"You're welcome. I'm not sure about this tie though. I think I'd prefer you in a black tie with that dinner jacket. I'll be back!" Luke spun around and went to leave the changing room, smacking Darren on the rear as he exited with a flourish.

"I know why Victoria said she didn't believe that story about how you two met. He's very expressive." Jimmy said when the door closed behind Luke.

"He loves life, and it helps that we feel safe here, things have been changing in London, you'd be surprised, there's more pubs and bars for people like us, it makes it easier, it's accepted that people of us are around as long as it's not shoved in their faces, and even if it wasn't Luke's a rather flamboyant character. Some find it annoying, but it's one thing, one of many, that makes me love him even more."

"I envy you; your life seems perfect, not hard at all."

"Hard? Of course it's hard, it just doesn't matter to us that it is. When Luke suggested we live together, I didn't have a choice, because I knew I would never be with a woman and I would never want to, not when I could have him."

"You live together?"

"Yes, two weeks after we starting walking out. We have a small two bedroom place, has to be two bedroom to avoid suspicion, but it suits us; we're together."

"Don't you ever think you might want something different? Some normality?"

"Without Luke nothing's normal. We've only been together six months, but I barely needed six seconds to see that I was supposed to spend my life with him. If I lost him, I don't think I could go on living." Darren forced a smile as he removed Jimmy's tie in anticipation of Luke coming back with a replacement, but he could not disguise the very real threat that one day he could lose Luke, and not through agents of his own doing, for that would be impossible. "Just to warn you I may have to jump on him when he comes back."

"I understand." Jimmy shared Darren's sentiment as he equally wished Thomas were there to be jumped on.

"Here we are!" Luke announced himself as he returned to the fitting room, brandishing a silken black bow tie, "why don't you try this one?"

"Thanks Luke." Jimmy gratefully accepted it, turning towards the mirror to give the couple some privacy for what Darren kindly warned him was coming.

"Oh dear, what's happened?" Luke sensed the serious atmosphere, until he looked at Darren, whose calm yet assured gaze was fixed upon him, full of love and desire, "Oh, I know those eyes. Sorry Jimmy." Luke apologised, being able to read Darren's intention and unable to resist the lure of those seductive eyes he knew so well.

Darren pushed Luke up against the wall and gripped him in a passion as he forced his lips upon the younger man. Jimmy tried focussing on fixing his new tie, which was an improvement on the old one, but in the mirror he could not help but look at the reflection of the two men behind him, and he sighed in sorrow at the perfection he was seeing. He had conjured this idyllic scenario in his head so many times between he and Thomas, but had not yet passed; that feeling of unrelenting passion. What was more disconcerting was that he did not know why he had not felt it from Thomas, when it coursed in Jimmy's own blood when they lay together. Though Jimmy wasn't ready to give himself to Thomas fully, though he had imagined it, he did want more, even if it was just a taste of what Darren and Luke were feeling right then. When the lovers finally pulled away from each other, Jimmy could not turn to face them as, much to his shame, he had grown stiff in his trousers at the idea, and from watching them. He had never seen two men like that before, and he never expected it to affect him so, but lack of fulfilment and thoughts of Thomas heightened his sensitivity. Fortunately, the two were busy blandishing, and coating each other in gentle caresses to notice Jimmy's state. The footman wished that maybe Luke was right, and that night he would see this exciting side in his Thomas Barrow.

* * *

Meanwhile, Thomas and Victoria were out buying groceries the girl had promised her parents she would buy for them while she was out, and knew that the real reason Thomas didn't want to go to the tailors with Jimmy was so he could have one of their chats. The chilly winter wind made them huddle together, Victoria linking her arm through Thomas' as they pulled their coats up around their necks to defy the cold.

"So, Luke and Darren," Thomas started, "they're why you're so understanding about me and Jimmy?"

"Of course. Though I would be anyway if not, but I think the reason I was so invested in trying to get you together with Jimmy was because you two remind me of Luke and Darren, and I couldn't deprive you both of the happiness I know they have."

"I'm glad you couldn't."

They came to a market stall where Victoria contemplated buying some oranges, which she hoped had not been long out in the cold, as she tested their ripeness in her hand she broached the subject they both seemed to want to speak of but not initiate. "I know it's only been a couple of days, but how have things been?"

"It could be better." Thomas shrugged as he strummed his fingers on a watermelon.

"Something must have happened for Mr Carson to let you _and_ Jimmy come to London overnight and have a day off at such short notice. What happened?"

Thomas came up behind Victoria so he could speak to her quietly, while she paid for a bag of oranges, "I were caught stealing wine by Mrs Hughes, I told her I've been finding it hard, that's why me and Jimmy were allowed to come today. I haven't told Jimmy about the wine, please don't tell him."

Victoria sighed, but not in disappointment, only at how hard she found it to hear how badly her friend was suffering, and that things might have been different if she had stayed, "Mrs Hughes is a good woman, but I take it you still haven't taken my advice and told Jimmy the truth about everything else?"

"I can't, Victoria."

"What makes you think he won't understand?" The pair wandered over to a bench and sat down; shrugging off the cold in preference of their conversation, Victoria took one of the oranges she had just purchased from the bag and started peeling one.

"It's not that, he's going through enough as it is, trying to figure himself out. He doesn't need me telling him that since the Duke I don't know me own head and I can't be with him the way I want to be." The girl gave the under butler a segment of the fruit and he gladly took it, just for something to focus on while he spoke.

"You mean physically as well don't you? I know you wouldn't say, you're a man, but you can't can you?" Victoria did not want to ask, she had been meaning to for a couple of weeks, but from what Thomas said she knew she had to now, even though the under butler still did not say anything and continued eating. "I see. I'm sorry. Maybe you'd feel better if Jimmy knew; if you told him. He's bound to find out some of it if you can't... perform. You need someone now I'm not there. I think you under estimate Jimmy. Remember what he was like when the Duke was at Downton? He came through for you. He really cares for you."

"He nearly got sacked," Thomas reminded her, "he's still immature; he doesn't understand the world as I do, what it's like for people like us, and I can't tell him, he has to learn it. He told me I saw every side of him, but I don't think I have yet. I can't, not until he's learnt and dealt with it; what the rest of his life will be like. Until then I'm staying guarded. Don't get me wrong, I care for him too, more than anything, but it's another reason why I can't tell him. It'll hurt him and it'll only hurt me."

Victoria nodded in understanding, giving Thomas another segment of orange in return for his honesty, "What do you plan on doing in the meantime?"

"I don't know; just take each day as it comes."

"Like you are now? Stealing wine?"

"Victoria please." Thomas begged her not to remind him of that shameful night.

"I'm sorry," The girl moved closer to Thomas' so their shoulders were together, and placed a comforting hand on his knee, "I don't mean to sound like I'm reprimanding you because I'm not; I just don't think this is something you should be going through alone. You told Mrs Hughes you're struggling, couldn't you confide in her?"

"I don't know." He took the girl's hand and held it between his own.

"How have you been sleeping? Is he still there?" Victoria asked, tightening her grip on Thomas' fingers to affirm her presence so he would know she was there for him.

"Every night. Every day. I'm finding it harder to keep it in. I think people are starting to see. I'm scared every minute." Thomas took a moment, as emotions claimed him and he choked. "God I'm so afraid I'll never be happy again. That I can never commit to Jimmy, that I can never trust him or tell him I love him, because I don't know if me heart is capable of it anymore."

"Of course it is Thomas, of course it is. I have seen how much love there is in your heart. Don't doubt it for a moment." The girl touched Thomas' wobbling cheek tenderly as tears came to his eyes, "Has Jimmy told you he loves you? Because I think he does, just as I think he trusts you. He's been so good to you so far; you said he hasn't put too much pressure on you and he's given you space when you ask for it. I think he must love and trust you very much. Can you not find a way to trust him?"

"I want to Victoria. I really do."

"Well, I suppose that's something, but I can't make you trust him. Once you know he has learned what it is to be like you, that he has accepted his future and is happy about it, do you think you will be able to?"

"That's the thing; I don't know. I don't know what I want from him, and I don't expect anything either."

The girl took the under butler's arm and placed it around her shoulders as she leaned into his chest, still holding his other hand on his lap while the man drew circles on her shoulder with his gloved thumb. "Then I don't know Mr Barrow, I don't know, but maybe you should try and figure it out. In the meantime you better tell me what the gossip downstairs at Downton is like these days."

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**Believe it or not Cavour and L'Abri were real places in 1920s London, just as Berlin was the most tolerant city in Europe for homosexuals at the time.**


	9. A Different World

**Thank you for reviews/ follows/ favourites. They are much appreciated.**

**Apologies for any spelling/ grammar mistakes**

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After Jimmy had selected his suit in which Thomas would squire him for the evening, he returned with Luke and Darren back to the guest house where they met Victoria and Thomas. The latter was panting to see what Jimmy had bought, never having seen him in a proper suit before, but the blonde was secretive about his purchase and went upstairs to get changed. Darren had rented Jimmy a wonderful knee length coat for him to wear over it to combat the winter cold, and so he could tease Thomas further. The under butler had the challenge of conjuring a complete image of a Jimmy dressed for the town from just his shoes, the bottom of his trousers, and his hair; his golden waves styled to perfection. Before they went to Cavour, Thomas took Jimmy to a restaurant which Darren recommended to him for the couple, as it was his favourite place to take Luke, and after a wonderful meal which Thomas paid for, "as a proper gentlemen should" he led the blonde into the very heart of London night life, into the world of sensuality and vice. To Cavour.

"So, how did you like Luke and Darren?" Thomas asked Jimmy, hoping the youth liked the pair as much as he did and that they treated him well in his absence.

"They're lovely. They're just perfect together. It didn't seem like it were anything illegal at all with them, it just worked."

"You sound jealous."

"I am in a way." Jimmy noticed Thomas' slight frown, and was quick to explain himself, "Just of how happy they are, they live together, get on with their lives, don't have to hide every day or keep their relationship in a single bed trying to keep the noise down in case the person next door decides to go for a piddle."

"Let's forget it for tonight. Tonight is for us." Thomas put his arm around Jimmy briefly and gave his shoulder a squeeze, careful to make sure nobody saw as they approached the inconspicuous entrance to the club. "Sure you're all right, you seem nervous?"

"I've never shown anyone before that I'm... different. It's a big deal for me."

"I know, but I'm so proud of you for doing this. For wanting to do this." Thomas brushed his lips against Jimmy's forehead just as they stepped through the door.

"Only because I've got you on me arm." Jimmy clung to Thomas' sleeve vulnerably as he allowed the older man to lead him where he will.

"Charlie?" Thomas approached a man, about the same age as Thomas, he was dressed finely in representation of the club he was seemingly guarding, standing behind a counter which was before a door, the club entrance perhaps, to greet the customers as they entered and checked their coats.

"Is that- Thomas! Blimey, haven't seen you for a while!" The man behind the counter held out his hand for Thomas to take. Jimmy stood by Thomas, taking deep uncomfortable breaths at revealing himself to someone Thomas was definitely acquainted with (at least he assumed, or rather hoped, their relationship were so innocent).

"I see you're still here minding shop." Thomas said to Charlie with a polite smile.

"Someone has to." Charlie shrugged, "They'll be in for a treat downstairs, especially Joe. He keeps wondering when you'll be back in. You were the best lookin' bloke behind the bar, and client, if I may say so." His eyes ceased their wandering over the under butler's form as he felt Jimmy's glare bear into him. "Oh, apparently I may not. This your young man?" He winked at Jimmy, who was taken aback by this stranger's forwardness.

"Steady Charlie you haven't even been introduced yet. This is Jimmy. Jimmy, Charlie." Jimmy was quick to learn that Thomas clearly knew how to handle these situations with these men, and it was not by losing his temper.

"Thomas always had good taste." Charlie eyed up the blonde.

"Excuse me?"

"Yes thanks Charlie," Thomas interrupted before Jimmy started brewing, "open up for us will you?" Thomas and Jimmy removed their coats and handed them to Charlie who took them to hang, while Thomas turned away to change his gloves. Jimmy didn't like how self conscious Thomas was about his hand, but it made the older man seem very sexy and mysterious, nonetheless Jimmy understood why he did it.

"At your will Mr Barrow." Charlie mock-bowed and pressed a button underneath his desk which opened up a hidden doorway on the other side of the room, the first door the counter lay behind showed itself for what it was; a dupe. Loud music immediately invaded the quietude of the entrance hall, and Thomas guided Jimmy straight towards it, following close behind.

"You said you wouldn't get funny." Thomas said, his hands on Jimmy's shoulders as their feet moved in union down a set of stairs.

"I never. Though I didn't expect the first bloke we see to start hitting on you… or me for that matter."

Thomas massaged the youth's shoulders to relax him. "Believe me you'll have to get used to it if you'll survive tonight."

Jimmy could hardly wait. "So who's Joe?"

"No one you need to worry about."

Why did Jimmy feel like this was the opposite of the truth? "What if we see this regular that you used to work for?"

"I would be shocked and terrified, seeing as he's dead."

"Dead? How?" Jimmy stopped just before the entrance into the main hub of the club.

"Heart attack. He _were_ in his fifties! His wife, the Lady of the house, weren't keen on me so I had to leave."

"He was fifty?! And married?!" Jimmy wasn't sure whether to be more stunned by Thomas working for a man of their inclinations, who was so much older, or that he was married; that is supposing his assumption about Thomas having an affair with his employer were true.

"Yes he was. What, do you think we were involved? Don't be daft! You know I do have _some_ skills, I don't seduce men to get jobs _all_ the time!"

"Good, as I wouldn't like to think of you and Lord Grantham-"

"Oh don't please. Spare me." Thomas clasped his chest dramatically as Jimmy laughed.

"I will... for now." Jimmy looked at Thomas and leaned in to tempt the older man towards him, and as the latter moved to reciprocate Jimmy drew back the curtain of beads before him and walked beneath them, leaving Thomas hanging as he followed the youth, not unimpressed by his confidence in entering the club first when he was so nervous before. Thomas stepped inside and they took in the rowdy atmosphere, alive with liberty and the sweet seduction of forbidden risk. Men's hungry eyes immediately bore into them, before they could take a single step, tearing the clothes off their backs.

Thomas, taking Jimmy's hand, went over to an empty table, men's wandering fingers subtly brushed the fabric of their trouser legs as they walked past. Thoman pulled a chair out for Jimmy, as always, taking natural control, sat opposite one another, interlocking their fingers over the table surface. Jimmy took the opportunity to look around him, there was a long bar, surrounded by men in black suits, the room brimmed with white shirts and bow ties, despite the similar dress and constant enticement, to the lovers no one was as enchanting to them as the other. The air smelt of cigarette smoke, alcohol, and cologne, there was a band playing jazz across the way and couples dancing to their song with the freedom they were given in this safe haven.

"By the way, you look stunning." Thomas brought Jimmy's hand to his lips, the feel of Thomas' fragile kisses, seeping with the romance of a dying age, always succeeded in melting his insides in a way he never thought anyone or anything could do. "I never thought you could look more handsome than you normally do, but I guess I were wrong."

Even in the subtle darkness of the room Jimmy's blush was obvious, "It'll be hard to go back and not do this." He said as he admired Thomas' perfectly straight and slender fingers, imagining the things they could do to him.

"Let's enjoy it while we can."

They smiled at each other, until the air was broken by a cry which made Thomas regret bringing Jimmy to his former workplace. "Thomas? Thomas! I thought it was you!" A young dark haired man came towards them wearing a fine black suit, his green eyes shone at them through a face lightly painted to a pallid colour that rivalled Thomas'. He had a dazzling smile and a confident charismatic air about him, which only added to his beauty. Jimmy surmised he was too young to have known Thomas as a colleague, but rather as a customer. He didn't know whether that was a good or bad thing.

"Joe?" Thomas greeted the dark haired youth as he rose to meet him, "Charlie said you were here. How are you?"

"All the better for seeing you. You haven't been in to see me for a while, I've missed you." The boy reached up to Thomas' face and gave his cheek a gentle stroke which saw the hairs stand up on Thomas' neck.

Physical contact was the limit for Jimmy, who cleared his throat and stood up, enjoying the feeling of objecting to someone else moving in on _his_ man. Telling this youth, primed for seduction, that his desire was in fact claimed by Jimmy sent a rush through the blonde's body.

"Who's this pretty little thing?" Joe turned his attention to Jimmy, noticing him for the first time.

"This is Jimmy." Thomas said.

"Oh, lucky boy." Joe grinned as he examined the footman.

"Who?"

"Me, if I have my way."

Thomas laughed through his nose at the boy's forwardness, "Sorry Joe, not tonight."

"You sure? It could be something really special." He bit his lip as he played with Thomas' lapel, giving the under butler time to wonder just exactly how special it could be. Jimmy felt uneasy as it was clear that the images of Joe's hopes were playing through his mind as he stripped the two men with his preying eyes.

"Sorry Joe. It's not happening." Thomas took a step back towards Jimmy.

"Shame. Oh well, in that case I have other fish to fry, if you'll excuse me. You're so lucky." Joe whispered the last part exagerratedly behind his hand to Jimmy. "Don't think you can put me off forever Thomas. One day!" Joe almost warned the under butler as he shimmied away, not disheartened in the slightest by his rejection, as he was likely used to it.

"Did he just ask if we wanted to-?" Jimmy started to ask.

"It's his job." Thomas explained as frankly as he could.

Oh my. "But you and Joe never-"

"I'm the one that got away."

"He seems very… attached to you though."

"Not sure you minded that too much though did you? Don't think I didn't notice you marking your territory there." Thomas smiled.

"I don't know what you mean."

"You did everything except pee around me!" Thomas goaded. "It's all right. I quite liked it." Thomas pressed his forehead against Jimmy's. "Now, shall we dance Mr Kent?"

"Mr Barrow I'd love to."

Thomas weaved his fingers through Jimmy's and led him onto the dance floor. As they made their way down, they were both overwhelmed by a singular powerful emotion that was forbidden to them outside of this room: pride. Jimmy's pride at being led by this mature, experienced, obviously seductive man, who protected him from any who dare intrude with their eyes and perverted thoughts. While Thomas basked in the pride at having ensnared a young, vigorous, innocent, filled with vitality and charm, the envy of every mature man in the room, while the younger specimens envied Jimmy's position in Thomas' arms. They may be considered lower class commoners in the outside world, but in this room they felt omnipotent. They started to dance, Jimmy didn't question Thomas' assumption of leading him, and he didn't feel feminine; he felt guarded. His stomach flitted, as he felt in every turn Thomas made him make, that he was being seduced. A feeling resonating from Thomas' bright and calculating eyes.

"I think that guy just winked at me." Jimmy said into Thomas' neck as his cheek rested on the older man's shoulder.

"Well, you are rather dashing."

"Not so much as you, I think I've seen at least three men give you the once over."

"Well they'll have to get in line." Thomas kissed Jimmy's forehead, his lips unmoving for seconds before Thomas tilted his head so his cheek rested on Jimmy's hair.

"I'm afraid the line stops after me."

"I'm so very glad to hear it. Besides I'm more worried about you, there's a bloke over there who hasn't taken his eyes off you."

"Tell him I'm not available."

"I think I can do one better than that." Thomas pulled Jimmy into his body and collided their lips together, the action immediately drawing stares from every corner of the room. Thomas' fingers trailed through Jimmy's hair while the blonde's found the side of Thomas' face, tracing a circle onto his cheek with his thumb, Jimmy wanting to mark where he would plant a kiss there later.

"Ironically I think more people are looking at us now." Jimmy observed as they parted.

"Let them, I want them to melt with envy at seeing that I have the most gorgeous guy in the room in me arms."

"Apart from you."

The feeling of so many eyes on them, at their passion being the object of jealousy was empowering, and such a rush that Thomas and Jimmy could not keep their lips apart. Kissing being the only natural thing they could do with them until an unnatural force, like a waiter, tore them away.

"Excuse me gentlemen, I hate to interrupt." The waiter loomed beside them, and they scowled at him for ruining their perfect moment, other men around sharing this feeling. The waiter himself regretted his interruption and wondering whether he should have taken advantage of watching these two gorgeous men kiss before speaking, like every other man in the room was doing. "Wow. _Really_ hate to interrupt… But the gentleman at the bar sent these over for you both with his complements." The waiter held out a tray with two martinis balanced on them, which the couple took appreciatively.

Jimmy dove straight in to the cocktail, but Thomas was less trusting, and he looked over to the bar to identify the sender. He thought it was from Joe, making another attempt to win him over, but he had found another gentleman to captivate. However the real sender had no qualms in making himself known as he raised his glass from his position at the bar and looked at Thomas with eyes that were terrifyingly familiar, the eyes of the Duke.

Thomas did not feel the glass slip through his fingers and shatter across the floor, he just turned to Jimmy and cried, "Jimmy stop, don't drink it!"

"What?" Jimmy raised his head, holding the empty glass in his fingers.

Thomas was filled with fear, hoping that the Duke had not put anything in the drink, but there was no time to wonder now. "We have to go." Thomas pushed Jimmy through the crowd.

"What? Why?" Jimmy saw the panicked look on Thomas' face, and surveyed the room to see if he could find the reason for it, then he saw it, as the Duke had now stood, accompanied by two men, and was moving casually towards them. "Oh my god."

"Follow me. Quick!" The couple barged through the dancers, sending one pair to the floor, but they did not care. The Duke and his men moved to block their way of the exit, but Thomas fortunately knew the lay out and forced Jimmy out the back way. They ran down the corridors, members of staff called to them in protest but were ignored as Thomas kept pushing Jimmy forward, the doorway to the back alley in sight, but Jimmy was slowing rapidly.

"Thomas?" Jimmy doubled over against the wall, rasping for breath, his head went fuzzy, his vision blurred.

"Oh my god, Jimmy." Thomas ran back, and bent down and grabbed Jimmy's arms to raise him and support his body, which now felt as dead weight once he collapsed into Thomas, draping the blonde's arm around his shoulders, "What has he done to you?" Thomas strained as he struggled slowly down the last metres of the corridor, finally getting there, his heart punching from the inside of his chest, he kicked open the back door and dragged Jimmy through it and out of the club. He found it difficult to keep the youth with him, but what else could he do? He moved as fast as he could down the back alley, knowing those men were hot on his tail, he could practically hear their pounding footsteps coming after him, sounding out his doom. All he had to do was get Jimmy to the main street, all he had to do was-

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**In case you're wondering; no, the ending was not an accident, I didn't forget to finish it :D **


	10. Branded

**Sorry for leaving the last chapter on a cliffhanger. Hope the wait to find out what the Duke has done hasn't been too painful :P**

**Thank you for any reviews/ follows/ favourites. Thank you for reading :)**

**Apologies for any spelling/ grammar mistakes.**

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Cold was the first thing that hit him, even before he opened his eyes. His back thumped against a brick wall as he convulsed from the sudden feel of a morning wind dusted with a light snow which would not settle. He was numb. Thomas' eyes were blinded as the sunlight poured into them, he blinked slowly his half frozen eye lids, his pupils shrank as they took in the same scene he saw before he was hit on the head by one of the Duke's men; the back alleyway of Cavour. He gathered his senses as he remembered what happened and where he was, feeling a dull pain growing on the back of his head. He lay against the wall, his clothes were torn, dirty, and had absorbed all the night's cold in their fibres; his evening jacket covered his body, and his hair was dishevelled. He wiped his face with his hands, hoping perhaps he might wake up any moment from what must have been one of his nightmares. That the Duke had not found them and carried out his threat, but it was real.

A pain as he rubbed his neck made it real as he looked at his fingers and saw they were coated in a warm red liquid which could not be blood. He put his hand back there, to see what the source of this flow was. His fingers roamed about his neck and were able to delve below his skin and into the warm moisture of bloodied flesh. Thomas winced as he knew he had been wounded there. He looked at his fingers as he took them away and saw that same red liquid, it looked the same, felt the same, except this time it was clear that it was blood. He touched the wound again, pressing his fingers to it to see just how bad the injury was. Could the Duke have done this to him? Why? Why cut him when it would not kill or seriously maim him? The only harm would be from immediate blood loss, unless the purpose was to scar- No… not to scar. To brand. The Duke was a possessive madman; he was not satisfied with taking men's bodies, but their minds must also belong to him and him alone. He wanted to be remembered, and he would be. For the rest of Thomas' life the Duke would be remembered, for Thomas would never be allowed peace from his former lover, his tormentor, his demon. Thomas did not care in this moment; nothing mattered to him, nothing except Jimmy, who he immediately searched for, and found him lying in a huddled mass just metres from him. Thomas crawled over to Jimmy, in his haste the concrete tore at his knees, but he didn't feel it, his concern was for Jimmy, who was laying there unconscious, his clothes torn up just as Thomas' were. Thomas tried to wake him through shaking and utterances of his name, but whatever the Duke put in his drink the night before had kept him unconscious, luckily he was alive.

Thomas' eyes were drawn to long patches of red across Jimmy's stomach, and some on the side of his shirt. Thomas closed his eyes in trepidation, a tear squeezed itself out from between his eyelids as he lifted up Jimmy's shirt and saw across his abdomen a long thin wound, the length of his lower arm, he turned Jimmy over slightly and saw the same had been done to his back. A wound wider than it was thick, set in dried blood, for it had done its bleeding, and much had been done as could be told from the small pool of blood which had formed beneath Jimmy's body, what had not been soaked up through his jacket and shirt. Thomas put Jimmy down and covered up the wounds back up; he collapsed back and placed his hand over his mouth, blood from his fingers smudged across his face, as he held back his cries from the hurt that had been done to the beautiful youth. A permanent damage that would live with them both, a damage he should have protected Jimmy from, why couldn't he have moved faster? He should have taken Jimmy out of there; he tried to save him and failed. He failed. Thomas was at least grateful Jimmy was not awake to see this, and to see him break down in this way. Thomas put both their jackets on the younger's wounds, he saw to his own with his shirt which he removed, fortunately the cold made him think to wear an undershirt, but as he tied the shirt around his neck he saw more red, not from Jimmy, not from his neck, but from his chest, as he noticed that over his heart was a thick patch of blood. Thomas lifted the top of his undershirt and looked beneath and found something worse than what had been done to his neck, something disgustingly cruel; an 'X' had been etched deeply into his chest. A cross purposely engraved over his heart. A heart that was forbidden access, to be given or received, it had been claimed so long as its brand remained upon it. Thomas once believed that Jimmy's name was burned into his heart, that it was already claimed, but this he could see, he could feel, and what's more, so would everyone else, and for now that was more powerful, that was the feeling that mattered, that would govern him. For the Duke _had_ branded him. Seeing it, he felt the pain of it for the first time and covered it back up, not able to keep looking at it, not needing to as he would remember that image, right there, right next to the Duke.

Taking in a deep breath before he could vomit, Thomas looked at Jimmy and knew he had to get him away; they could not go to the hospital or the police, not without revealing where they were the night before. Thomas decided to get Jimmy back to the guest house, and he could tend to their wounds there. Thomas took Jimmy in his arms precariously, but held him tight and, as steadily as he could, carried him out into the main road, tears leaving white trails through his blood smeared cheeks, and he hailed a taxi which took them at all speed to the guest house.

* * *

"Oh my god, Thomas, what happened? Are you all right?" Victoria cried as she opened the front door to let Thomas in, who was still carrying an unconscious Jimmy.

"I'm fine, it were the Duke." Thomas told her, straining under Jimmy's weight which Victoria helped him carry up the stairs.

"What?"

"He was there, at Cavour. He drugged Jimmy's drink and his men knocked me on the head."

"Looks like he did a lot more than that." The girl's eyes cast over the redness seeping through the couple's garments. Thomas didn't deny the worst of what Victoria was thinking, "My mum was a nurse in the war she'll be able to fix you up. The police won't have to get involved."

"Can we put him in a different room?"

"What? Why?"

"I don't want him to know I've been hurt. Please." As well as Thomas' need at that moment to be alone, otherwise the brewing emotion in his chest threatened to overwhelm him.

"All right. You should tell him though."

"I will, but not now, let's just get him settled."

The pair took Jimmy into a spare room, up a floor from Thomas' room which the injured man returned to, exhausted from his sudden exertion, and Victoria ran to fetch her mother. Her filial piety played a strong role in persuading her parents not to call the police and trusting Thomas to see to his own wounds as she knew that in spite of the dire situation he would not want anyone seeing him in a state of undress, or so vulnerable.

Thomas removed his shirt and looked at himself in the mirror, blood painted his form in a most hideous manner. He took a wash cloth and rinsed it thoroughly in the basin on the chest of drawers, before placing it to his neck and allowing droplets of water to fall down his chest. His breathing quickened as his mind took in all that had happened, as he had not been able to really stop and think about it. It all became real, the Duke had found him, mutilated him, and Jimmy; he had carried out his threat. Thomas' nightmares had come alive and he feared they would never be put to rest. The Duke left his mark, he was branded, he belonged to the Duke, a man he once cared for, whom he trusted and dared to trust again. He returned a restless demon, seeking Thomas out, but instead only drove him further within himself. Never had he felt more afraid, more alone, yet more real. He took up a needle and thread which was left for him there by Victoria, but he could not slip the cotton through the eye, instead the needle pushed straight through into his thumb. He could not feel it. He did not stop, but pushed further and further until a drop of blood popped through from the minute puncture. He took his fingers away and found the needle stayed there, imbedded in his flesh, he put his thumb parallel to the surface of the mirror, the needle end touching the glass. His hand shook, his mind numbed, he blinked unconcernedly as he looked at it, he wanted to push the needle through, but the thought of more pain stopped him. He had endured enough. He knew this was real; he needed no more proof than what he had already suffered. This was him, this was his life. What had he done to deserve this?

* * *

An hour later there was a knock at his door, Thomas turned wildly in panic and the basin clattered to the floor, luckily it was metal so did not shatter, but water splashed across the floorboards. Victoria poked her head around the door as she opened it, seeing her friend standing there so fearful she raised her hands in surrender to him and reassured him it was just her; that it was not the Duke. She immediately turned her back to Thomas when she saw him in a state of undress. She noticed water running across the floor about her shoes but ignored it, she would clean it herself, but did not want to give Thomas any reason to worry further about anything more. Thomas grabbed his under shirt and pulled it on while the girl told him that Jimmy had finally awoken and wanted to see him. It seems whatever drug he was given was not lethal and had no effects other than to knock him out for a few hours, enough time for the Duke to carry out his crime and get away. Thomas eagerly dressed, covering up his stitched and bandaged wounds with a thick shirt and scarf, and went across the hall to see Jimmy, who was sat up in bed in his pyjamas, trying to drink a cup of tea, which shook in his hand.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" Thomas asked as he came in, taking a chair beside the bed.

"Strange." He replied, before giving a contented sigh as he drank some of the hot tea. "What happened? I just remember the Duke."

"Your drink was spiked; his men attacked us in an alley outside the club when I tried to get you back." Thomas said woodenly.

"My god, are you all right?" Jimmy set down his cup of tea in worry, which he spilled over the saucer he sat it on.

"I'll be fine." Thomas said through his priority for Jimmy's health, noticing his own wounds however burning more fiercely than before from his lie.

"Why? Why would he do this to me?" Jimmy looked down at his stomach, his fingers not daring to touch the bandages through his pyjamas.

"He _did _threaten us."

"Yes but couldn't a couple of punches sufficed instead of mutilating me?!"

"It's personal." Thomas said quietly.

"Of course it is! It's carved into my fucking skin!" Jimmy screamed in anger as much as fear, panting as Thomas just sat in silence. "He didn't do anything to you did he?"

"No." Thomas self- consciously adjusted the scarf about his neck.

"Thank god… but why me?" Jimmy did not expect an answer, that is until he saw Thomas' guilt ridden features and knew his lover could give him one. "If you know, tell me." Thomas remained silent. "Tell me!"

The older man lowered his eyes and continued to speak monotonously, "He wants us to remember him... He wants _me_ to remember him." He corrected himself, aligning blame where he believed it was due.

"Oh my god." Jimmy leaned his head back so breaths could come more freely and held his head in his hands as if to still his brain to stop his eyes from crying.

"Oh darling, come here." Thomas' tone changed as Jimmy's tears moved him to sit beside the blonde on the bed and embrace him in comfort, but Jimmy stopped him before he had fully left the chair.

"No, I can't."

Thomas lowered himself back down. "I just want to-"

"I know but I just can't. I- It's too hard. I can't-" Jimmy sobbed.

"What are you talking about?"

"What am I talking about?! Look at what he's done to me!" Jimmy clutched at his shirt in despair.

"I know, and I'm sorry you got involved, I tried to keep you out of it-"

"Great job you did there! It's all right for you you got off without a scratch! If you could have just kept it in your pants!"

"You bastard!" Thomas looked up into Jimmy's eyes which held in them a bitter anger, an anger directed in such a way that Thomas could not abide it, "You selfish son of a bitch! Do you ever think about what he did to me? At least you were asleep. I was awake… and I felt it, again, and again, and again. I can still feel it. Every waking moment, and more. I still remember. I still feel that pain, worse than those scars you wear. The only difference is you can hide them, while I'm struggling... I've been struggling for a while but you're so tied up in your crap that you don't notice. That's why I talked to Victoria every day. We talked so you would never have to hear what goes on in my head, so you would never have to see me cry and find out just how screwed up I am. So I could be strong for _you_."

"Is that why you never let me touch you, or undress you?" Jimmy tried to understand.

"Yes." Thomas hung his head.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Jimmy implored him.

"Because you don't know how to handle these things. I worry about you, I don't have to worry about Victoria, she doesn't need my protection, she's mature and knows how things work, you don't, you just get upset and overreact. Just like now. You take a cheap shot, and make me feel that what happened to me were my fault!"

"Oh god Thomas, I didn't mean that. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I didn't mean- You're bleeding." Jimmy noticed the patches of red appearing once more through Thomas' clothes, the heat of argument causing his blood to flow more quickly.

"It's nothing." Thomas moved his scarf to cover the red on his neck, and brought his arms to his chest to hide the patch of blood congealing there.

"No it's not, what is it? Please Thomas, what is it?" Thomas slowly moved his arms down in reply, not able to keep something like this from Jimmy when he had already seen, "Did he do this?" Jimmy reached out to touch Thomas, but Thomas wouldn't have it, not after what the boy had said to him. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"Like everything I do; to protect you." Thomas said bitterly as he stood to make for the door.

"Thomas, love, please don't go, don't leave me," Jimmy cried, "I'm begging you, please. I'm sorry!"

"So am I. As you said, I should have kept it in me pants."

"Thomas I didn't mean-"

The door shut, and Jimmy was left alone with his wounds, fearing that the one he had caused Thomas would take far longer to heal.

* * *

**I'm sorry if you were expecting Jimmy to have been kidnapped or something like that. I did think about it, but I don't think the Duke is stupid enough to do something like that which would implicate him.**


	11. Old Wounds

**Thank you for reviews/ follows/ favourites. **

**Apologies for any spelling/ grammar mistakes.**

* * *

Thomas returned to his room, tearing the dressing from his chest and neck, he fell onto the bed, and screwed up the blood soaked bandages between his fingers. How could Jimmy say such a thing? To blame him for what happened to him? The thought had crossed Thomas' mind that what the Duke did was his own doing, after all he _had_ displeased him; he had been stupid. But to hear it put in such a way by someone he was supposed to trust was unbearable. He believed that in such a time of hurt they should be grateful for each other and what they had, and hold each other ever closer in comfort, but Jimmy, childish Jimmy, as always it was almost predictable, fell to fear. All his life Thomas had fallen for the wrong people, who he dared to trust and in return for his faith he had been beaten and stepped on; by his employers, his friends (O'Brien specifically), and of course his lovers. How much more could he take? Would he just be better off alone, where no one could hurt him anymore? He had been branded, he had been burned. Love was a god and she decided to inflict her wrath upon his unworthy body, striking him like a match setting into flames, only Thomas burned more slowly.

Victoria saw the shadows in Thomas' eyes when she came to him. They were as life forms perishing in a wilting darkness under a cloudless moon, engulfing him in a deathliness which left him crumbling in a cold flame. Victoria turned the light on and saw Thomas there, a cigarette dangling from between his fingers, not noticing it dropping ash on the bed sheets. The smoke reddened his eyes, either that or it was from tears. Victoria could not tell, and she did not ask, for she could guess Thomas' visit to Jimmy had not gone as planned and hoped her older friend might be able to confide in her as to the reason why.

"Thomas? Oh god, your stitches!" She set the tray of food she had brought for him down on the bed side table and sat on the bed beside Thomas to take a look at what he had done.

"It's fine, just needs redressing." Thomas shirked her.

"Will you let me? You don't have to take your shirt off." The girl said, not wanting to leave Thomas in this way again, seeing that he was deeply troubled.

Thomas agreed with some reluctance, allowing Victoria to take some gauze and padding from a box she left on Thomas' table and covered up his wounds. "He blames me." Thomas said to her as she fixed the padding in place.

"I'm sure he doesn't." The girl assuming that Jimmy had not uttered such cruelties himself.

"He does, he said it were my fault."

"I don't think Jimmy would ever say such a thing."

"He said it were my fault… my fault that I… I were-"

"What? That you were raped? No. He would never say or even think such a thing." The girl stopped to look at Thomas with doubtful eyes.

"He told me I 'should have kept it in me pants'." Thomas bitterly recalled, "He was right, I should have. It is my fault."

"No, don't you dare, don't you ever say that you hear?" The girl took Thomas' face in her hands and forced him to look at her, "Look what the Duke has done to you! And to Jimmy! He is a vile, cruel, sick man with control/ possessive issues and that is not your fault. Jimmy knows that."

"How do you know?"

"Don't you think I spoke to him the same way I spoke to you after what happened? He never thought it was your fault; otherwise he would have sat back and watched you go when the Duke wanted to take you. I know we talked about it and I know how hard you have found it to be close with Jimmy, to let him in, but you can't, and you shouldn't, let the Duke ruin your life. I mean, do you think you could ever be with anyone else?"

"I don't know. I don't know anything anymore." Thomas lowered his eyes as tears dropped from them, Victoria wiping them from Thomas' cheeks with her thumbs.

"It will get better. But please talk to him. You know what he gets like; upset, confused, irrational, but you've both been through so much together. Don't give up now. Please. Just talk to him on the train back."

"I need to sleep. You need to phone Downton and tell them what happened."

Victoria knew Thomas would not want to say whether she was right or wrong in her advice, but she hoped he would take it, as she stood to leave, taking Thomas' discarded bandages with her. "I will. But it's not sleep that you need, Thomas. You need Jimmy."

* * *

Immediately after seeing Thomas Victoria went upstairs and knocked on Jimmy's door, not content to think that Jimmy really harboured such beliefs; that Thomas brought on the Duke's attack, and she needed to know for certain. If the two men were leaving her the next day she was determined not to let them go back hating each other, all because of words spoken in a heated moment.

"Jimmy?"

"I don't want to talk to you." Jimmy turned away from the former housemaid, who entered the room nonetheless.

"What?" The girl not knowing what wrong she had done for him to not want to speak to her.

"Just go."

"Jimmy-"

"You knew! You knew all along what was wrong with him and you didn't say a word!" Jimmy cried in anger.

"It wasn't my place to tell." Victoria sternly reminded him.

"You should have said something."

"And what would you have done if I told you? Get upset? Panic? Thomas doesn't need that; he needs you to remind him of the good in his life, not the bad."

"I just feel like he doesn't trust me, that he trusts you more than he trusts me." The girl's silence at this, where he would have expected her to refute his claim, was troubling, "Does he trust me?"

"I don't know." Victoria shook her head at her own honesty, "I'm sorry."

Jimmy let the girl sit down on his bed as he asked her, "Do you think he'll ever forgive me?"

"Of course, but he's been through a terrible ordeal. He can't just get over that. It takes time."

"How much did he tell you?"

"He didn't tell me what the Duke did to him, if that's what you mean." Part of her being glad for this. "Could you really not tell that there was something wrong with him?"

"I thought it were tiredness; that he were working too much. He didn't tell me it were anything more than that." Jimmy's mind flashed back over the last weeks and contemplated the signs he should have noticed but passed over as nothing. He felt sick, the nausea made more potent by Victoria's next jab into his wounded stomach.

"You didn't think that it might have been because he was raped?"

"No. I don't know." It was now all a mess in Jimmy's mind. He was ashamed to think he did not notice his lover's discomfort and torment, but was it just as bad to think he could have known and did nothing to find out the truth or aid him. Victoria could see the shame in his features so no longer pressed him, letting Jimmy ask her; "What _did_ you talk about?"

"You, mostly. After all, your relationship is what's been really affected by the Duke, even more so now he has given Thomas a permanent reminder of him." Victoria paused to let the realisation of this fact sink in, before moving on to the implications of it, "Jimmy, I should warn you, after this it is likely that Thomas will not be the same."

"What do you mean?"

"The Duke has now attacked him twice; do you think that Thomas will believe it will stop there?"

"Of course it will stop, the Duke can't come back." Jimmy said, feeling his insides tremble at any other possibility.

"Not in Thomas' mind. Until he is ready to get help, he will probably be afraid for a long time. So please, don't be like you are and overreact and do or say something you'll regret if Thomas changes in a way that makes things harder for you."

"How will he change?"

"I don't know, but if he does, _if_ he does, you will see it. You know him well enough by now."

"Do I? I feel like I don't know him at all." He said snidely.

"For once, can you not make this about you?" Victoria gritted her teeth in exasperation.

"I'm not, I'm just frustrated that the man who's supposed to care about and trust me, keeps secrets from me, worst of all they are secrets about his well being. I don't know why he hasn't seen someone." Jimmy thought out loud the last part.

"Because he can't. He's ashamed." Victoria's tone returned to its natural sympathy.

"He shouldn't be."

"And yet he is." Victoria said firmly in desperation for wanting Jimmy to understand what it was she was trying to tell him, "I don't want to sound like I'm having a go, because I'm not, but what you said only supports his belief; that it was his fault and he _should_ be ashamed."

"But I didn't- it's not his fault, I know that." The look in Victoria's eyes only showed him that what he believed or meant to have said and done did not matter, because Thomas had not seen it in the same way, "Oh god. What do I do?"

"Give him some space. What he needs is a friend, and right now I don't know if you could be that for him."

"Why not?" What was he supposed to do otherwise?

"Because he needs normality, so he can stop reliving what happened. I'm afraid your feelings for each other only reminds him of that." Their feelings being the cause of what made the Duke believe he had to hurt Thomas, and the potential for intimacy in their relationship reminding him of the 'intimacy' between him and the Duke.

"So it's over? That's what you're saying?"

"No, not until one of you says it's over. It will get better in time, but only Thomas can say when he's ready. It's up to you whether you want to wait for him, but the truth is Thomas will never really get over what happened to him, it will stay with him for the rest of his life." She could see that she wasn't getting through to Jimmy as clearly as she hoped, so she asked him with a heavy heart, "You know why the Duke cut you where he did; do you wonder why he cut Thomas' neck?"

Jimmy shook his head, genuinely unknowing, he hadn't even thought about it, he just assumed he wanted to hurt him without any significance behind it. "Why?"

"So every time he looks in the mirror he'll remember, he'll remember who he belongs to, because the Duke has branded him with his mark, in more ways than one. What's more other people will be able to see it too. It'll be hard for Thomas to break back through, but give him time. When he's ready he'll come to you, don't think he won't, because I know that he will need you. Not today, not tomorrow, maybe not the day after, but he'll realise it."

Jimmy now understood, "I hope so, because I need him too."


	12. Bluebells

**Thank you for reviews/ follows/ favourites and for reading :D**

**Apologies to the guest who was moved to tears after the last chapter, though I thank you for them, but if that got you going you might wish to avoid this chapter, or maybe even the rest of this story :P**

**Warning: Violent nightmare.**

**I finally reveal details of what happened that night with the Duke when Thomas flashbacks to his nightmares. If you don't want to read it, stop when you get to the italics and resume when the italics have concluded. You can skip the whole chapter of course, but you might miss quite a bit. **

**Apologies for any spelling/ grammar mistakes**

* * *

Neither man was allowed to leave their beds the next day; they needed rest first and foremost, an even though Jimmy was desperate to see Thomas the feeling was not mutual. The footman hated how they left things and wanted to apologise, but Victoria knew it would do no good, Thomas expressly did not want to see the footman, for more reasons than because of what the youth had said to him. More than that he was afraid to see him, to see what images would now arise as he gazed into Jimmy's eyes, whether they would match his nightmares. To quell the uprising of any quarrel between the men, and bring about any undue stress to Thomas, Victoria had to lock Jimmy in his room when she was not there to police them, though in his condition he would have to crawl down the stairs. When she brought them up breakfast in the morning she took a tray to Thomas last as there was a further issue which needed addressing, regarding the phone call she had to make to Downton to tell them they would be without an under butler and footman for the day. Fortunately she spoke to Mrs Hughes rather than Mr Carson, so she did not have to listen to the butler's hysteria over who would help serve at dinner since the family were returning to Downton that night. The former housemaid knocked at Thomas' door in case he was undressed, but when he called for her to come in she entered and sat beside him on the bed.

"How are you feeling?" She asked him, seeing the tiredness of his drooping eyes and the way his head had fallen to one side.

"Tired, but all right besides that." Thomas croaked; drinking the tea Victoria brought him to clear his throat, just what he needed after a sleepless night.

"Luke and Darren called for you, asked whether you and Jimmy wanted to breakfast with them before going back. But I said you needed to rest."

"So they know?"

"Yes. Not everything, just that you were hurt. They were worried about you. Said they might call tomorrow morning before you leave."

Thomas smiled; he was not used to people worrying about him. "They're very kind, and thoughtful. Luke's just like you, and you know I love you, and Darren's perfect for him. I think that sums up how I feel about them."

"They really like you too, and Jimmy." Thomas' smile faded at the mention of Jimmy's name, he was clearly still upset about what the footman had said to him, so Victoria sought to distract him from it. "By the way, I spoke to Mrs Hughes, told her that you and Jimmy were mugged at a bar. She was concerned but I told her you were fine and just have a few scrapes, so don't worry she won't ask to see your injuries. Also I asked her to tell the staff so you won't get any awkward questions. I thought you'd prefer that."

"Yes, thank you. What about me and Jimmy? Did you tell her-"

"I told her that Jimmy blames you for what happened, so you're both keeping distance, and she said that if you want to talk to anyone, you can talk to her."

The girl's excuse was so close to the truth that Thomas would have no trouble remembering it if he had to talk to anyone about it, "I'll be fine."

"Really? So you wouldn't have drunk yourself under the table on stolen wine if Mrs Hughes hadn't stopped you?"

Thomas dropped his head even further, mistaking Victoria in thinking that she was scolding him, "It were just because you were gone and I needed-"

"I know. That's why I think you should talk to Mrs Hughes." Victoria set her hand on Thomas' in encouragement.

"I know she'd understand, but I feel I need more than that."

"Because you had me for the bad times, and Jimmy for the good, now you would have Mrs Hughes for the bad, but no one for the good." The girl guessed.

"Yes."

"Well, that's the other news I've got for you." Thomas found the strength to raise his head slightly in curiosity. "There's a new footman arriving at Downton, he'll be there morning after next, a day early to learn the ropes it seems. Mrs Hughes thinks you might get on with him."

"Why's that?" Does she think he will leap on him like a lion after a young gazelle?

"She just said that from what she could see he's very kind, chirpy, and intelligent. Very likeable, even for you."

"Is she matchmaking?"

"I don't think so," Both forcing a smile at Thomas' attempt at humour, "but when he arrives maybe you should try and befriend him. I think Mrs Hughes is going to ask you to spend a couple of days showing him around, since both you and Jimmy will both be given light duties. It wouldn't hurt. If you realise Mrs Hughes was wrong and he's more like Alfred, then you can use that method which has worked so well for you with everyone else and push him away." Thomas snickered at her fair assessment of him, "What do you say Mr Barrow? I won't let you leave without knowing I'm not sending you back neck deep into a bottle of wine."

"For you, I'll do it."

"If that's what it takes, then fine. But that doesn't mean you're off the hook with me, you're to write to me, or there will be trouble."

"I'm counting on it."

The pair may have smiled at each other, but both were far from content. "Do you think there's any hope for you and Jimmy?" Victoria asked him.

"I don't know. Sometimes I don't even know who I am."

"You have something special. You were both so happy when you were together, even though it was for so short a while. Why do you think I was willing to get sacked for you? Jimmy has his flaws, yes-"

"Flaws?!" Thomas coughed from a compulsion to laugh, "He's living in a fantasy world; thinking that as soon as we were together everything would just blow over and be forgotten! I was wrong; he's not just childish, he's ignorant."

"Yes, yes he's ignorant, but as you said; you knew that already. Are you really not prepared to keep trying? He will learn in time."

"I just can't keep waiting for him Victoria. I need more than this. I need him to understand, I need to be taken care of now, I'm not strong enough to keep going, but he can't even look after himself, how can I expect him, a thoughtless child, to take care of me?"

Victoria sighed, knowing that she didn't have the answer to Thomas' question. "I know you're going through a lot, I can barely imagine it, but that's all the more reason why you need him now."

"We only hurt each other, things have just changed now, I think of him differently."

"You can't trust Jimmy anymore can you?"

The more he wanted to trust Jimmy, the less he felt he could, as he felt the shadow of betrayal following close behind the prelude of trust. Trust; which he found so hard to give. "It's not just that." Thomas confessed meekly.

"Then what is it?"

"I'm afraid." He uttered, staring down at the bed sheet.

"Afraid? Of what?"

_"Get undressed. Do it." The echoes reverberated seismically through Thomas as he found himself back in the guest bedroom at Downton, a candlelit room surrounded by a lingering mist of recollection._

_"Please don't do this Michael."_

_"But it's not me who's doing it. You're forcing me to do this Thomas. You need to understand that you can't just leave me… That you are mine. Will you displease me Thomas?"_

_"No." The fatal answer torn forth through his chest to his own demise as the Duke circled him sinisterly._

_Eyes stalked his body, his face pressed against the wall with an unfeeling hand, flesh flushed against his flesh, nails and teeth digging into his skin which oozed blood on command. A hand about his neck squeezed his throat, his body thrown into the post of the bed. The Duke entering inside him to the taste of blood. Torn open to the sound of screams. Split in two to the scent of death. Unrelenting, unforgiving, without mercy. Again. Again. Again. _

_"Stop! No more! Please! I can't!"_

_"Don't you ever resist me."_

_A hand beat him. Burnt his crippled face. Knees hitting the hard ground, his veins throbbing, a desire for them to burst. Any moment now. So weak. A body on his restrained him, fingers roamed inside of him, followed by something far worse; pushing, moaning, groping, screaming, agony, tremors, blisters, scorching, collapse. Finish._

_"I think I need some time, but we can't leave you like this can we? No? I can't leave you unoccupied can I? Terribly thoughtless of me isn't it Thomas?" The Duke took up the poker from the fireplace. It was cold; the fire had not been lit for hours. Fingers tore the hair back on Thomas' scalp. Cold metal fitted forcefully between his cheeks. Pressing its cruel intent into him._

_"ARGH! Please god no! Stop, stop, stop!"_

_"If you want the boy to live, you will shut your fucking mouth."_

_"Please Michael!" He cried, his fingernails broke into the carpet beneath them, his neck breaking from the weight of his leaden mind. Searing pain followed as the implement penetrated deep inside him. _

_"Tell me you're mine. Tell me you love me, that you need me, that you want me, that you never want me to stop."_

_"I can't take anymore. Please, let me go. Please. Kill me, just kill me, don't do this."_

_"That's not what I want to hear Thomas; you can't care much for the boy. Maybe I'll do him first, make you watch, before I kill him, then maybe I'll kill you, or have you one last time. You're always good for that one thing I need. Because… you are beautiful Thomas."_

_The Duke twisted the rod inside him with one final plunge; it could have impaled right through to his heart, stabbing out Jimmy's name which once burned there. His body was a dead tool; he barely felt the Duke now except the jolt and rush of the pain as flesh replaced metal._

_"Say it… or I will cut open.. his pretty.. face." The Duke growled between thrusts._

_"I'm yours! I'm yours! I need you! I want you! Dear god! Please!"_

_Release. He lay outstretched on the bed, on his front. His hands and legs bound to each post. He raised his eyes and in the eerie silence of the room a naked figure stood before him, his back facing him, Thomas could only see the blonde hair of his head, and an ugly scar on his lower back which had turned black and putrid._

_"Jimmy?" Thomas gasped._

_The body turned, there was a second scar, like the one on his back, but across his stomach, however it was not that which made Thomas push his face into the sheets and scream; bile escaping through his lips which tore themselves open at the corners through the pain of the horror before his eyes; rather it was the open knife wound cut diagonally across the entire length of the blonde's face. Jimmy's face. Cleaved so deeply that Thomas could see the bone of his skull. Blood flowed ceaselessly from his glazed eyes in place of tears, and poured in lines from his mutilated mouth and down the smooth skin of his neck when he finally spoke in a demonic tongue. _

_"Look at you, so useless, you can't do anything can you Thomas? You can't even get it up. You couldn't protect me Thomas. Now look at me, I'm ruined. You're pathetic."_

_"Jimmy. I tried Jimmy. I tried. I'm sorry."_

_The Duke came behind Jimmy, and touched his skin lecherously, his eyes were corrupted into a total blackness which widened and caressed the blonde's skin; he turned Jimmy's face to him with a hypnotic hand and pressed his lips against the blonde's, hungrily devouring the blood which flowed from his mouth. Thomas screamed, but the Duke brandished a knife and placed the flat of cold steel against Jimmy's side, the gesture enough to silence Thomas. The blonde stood unmoved like a puppet to the Duke's will, the latter, as he spoke spat Jimmy's blood from his stained lips, "You failed Thomas, and now he is going to die. Just like you will. But first, I'm going to make you watch what you have made me do."_

_"No. Please. I'm sorry. I'll do whatever you want. Jimmy has nothing to do with this!"_

_"I don't believe you Thomas."_

_"No, please, please. Stop! Don't hurt him, hurt me, kill me."_

_"Remember Thomas; you made me do this." The Duke turned Jimmy's head and plunged the knife deep into the side of his neck._

_"NOOOOO!"_

"Thomas? What are you afraid of?" Victoria asked him again, a single tear being the only sentiment of emotion he gave as he shivered at its coldness which caressed his cheek so deliberately.

"Tomorrow."

* * *

The two men had not spoken a word or seen each other in over twenty four hours, so it was very strange to suddenly emerge from their rooms, fully dressed, wounds covered, as if nothing had happened to them. The only sign of injury was in their faces, which wilted from how downtrodden they felt by their unexpected quarrel. Luke and Darren had called as promised that morning to see them but Victoria advised them that it was not the best idea, explaining to them that Thomas and Jimmy had a falling out over what happened, and that Thomas' mental state was questionable so needed time by himself while he could get it. The visitors understood but only wished they could do more at such a tragic time, so they could only give their best wishes for Victoria to pass on to them. The girl knowing however that her friends would need more than her brother's wishes to mend the fractured state of their relationship. Victoria escorted them to the station, standing between the two, none of them saying a word as they walked down the streets of London. They waited at the station for the train in silence, fortunately they did not have to rely on their patience for long as the train arrived early.

Victoria kissed the men goodbye and begged for them to sort out their differences, but neither man was cooperative, and without a response they kissed her in return, and thanked her for her hospitality before leaving her at the platform as the train pulled away to take them back to Downton. Back home. Home which seemed less and less welcome to Thomas, as it was so full of those memories he had come to London to get away from and would now seem all the more vivid after what had happened in the last two days. Victoria watched the train move away, frightened of what might become of Thomas after what he had told her the day before, as he seemed so without hope, it gave her fear. Fear only increasing all the more knowing that Jimmy had no idea what Thomas was thinking, and that it was possible that she did not know either, as he still would not tell her about his nightmares, just as he wouldn't tell her about that awful night. The idea that it was so bad that he should lock it away inside him and question the future of his life was enough for her to know that she was right to be afraid. Her only regret now, being that maybe she should have told Jimmy everything when Thomas first spoke to her of his troubles a month ago.

* * *

The men sat in their solitary compartment, opposite each other, Thomas had his elbow on the window ledge, leaning his head on his hand, the gentle rocking of the train and the picturesque scenery tempting him to drift off for a while, but he had to defy such an act with all his strength. He had failed to sleep the last night, he was not only afraid of this day, but he was afraid of the night, he was afraid to sleep, even more than speaking to Jimmy, though sleep would have proved a valuable excuse to avoid the conversation that soon followed.

"Victoria said there's a new footman-" Jimmy started.

"Don't." Thomas warned him, not moving his head until Jimmy dared to wonder why he shouldn't speak.

"What?"

"Don't talk to me like nothing's happened!" Thomas cried in an exhausted rage.

"I don't know what else to do Thomas!"

"That's you all over isn't it?" Thomas shrank back into the cushion of the seat.

"At least I'm making an effort; I'm trying to tell you I'm sorry!" Jimmy raising his voice more than he meant to, hoping Thomas didn't think he was angry at him specifically.

"Sorry won't cut it Jimmy!"

"Then what will?"

"Nothing you can give."

"So what do you want from me?"

"I want you to stop hurting me!" Thomas begged him. He had sacrificed himself twice to save Jimmy, and as a result of the second time Jimmy hurt Thomas every day in reminding him, guilting him, that he could not be with him sexually, and now Jimmy had reinforced his shame, his responsibility for his suffering. Thomas didn't want to blame Jimmy, but his very presence was a reminder and encourager of his pain.

"I don't want to hurt you, I've never wanted to hurt you!" Jimmy never realised until now just how much pain he had caused, and in the way Thomas said it it seemed that he had been hurting him for a long time without even knowing it.

"But you did!"

"I know and I want to make it up to you!"

"What, are you going to pick me a bluebell and hope it'll all go away?" Thomas stopped, hoping suddenly that those words had not been spoken, that they stayed in his head where they belong, but Jimmy heard them, and like Thomas, could not understand them.

"A bluebell? What are you talking about Thomas?"

"I- I don't-" He started to explain, but what explanation could he give? Jimmy looked at him in concern, but Thomas just stood up and left the compartment, slamming the door behind him, and he would not return until they had arrived at their destination. Leaving Jimmy to wonder what the hell he had just seen.


	13. Exhaustion

**I'm sorry if the last chapter was a bit cruel but I wanted to emphasise the difficulty Thomas is having and why he's struggling so badly to be close to Jimmy and to explain his following actions.**

**Thank you for any reviews/ follows/ favourites, and for continuing to read.**

**Apologies for any spelling/ grammar mistakes**

* * *

When they pulled into their station Thomas returned to the compartment to retrieve his things without acknowledging Jimmy, who still had no idea what to say to him after what had happened earlier on the train. Though one question was clear that he wanted to ask, but the potential significance of it stopped him asking it; why did he mention bluebells? It's not a word one could mistake themselves to say, it meant something, but what?

A car had kindly been sent to pick them up, much to Thomas' relief as it meant that Jimmy could not ask him this question, being in the presence of the driver, so they sat in silence. Jimmy did not dare to talk to Thomas again through fear of the possibility of Thomas throwing himself out of the car to get away from him. He knew Victoria was right; that he needed to give Thomas space, but how much? For how long? If the older man wouldn't even speak to him how could they make any progress in their relationship? Were they still _in_ a relationship? Jimmy couldn't say, and nor could Thomas.

No one met them as they came in to Downton; they went straight to their rooms, unpacked their things and waited until after luncheon had been served upstairs before going down to report to Mr Carson, to find out just what the situation was for them now. Jimmy came down to the servants' hall, hoping that the chatter of the servants might bring him to distraction from everything going on between him and Thomas, and would also stop him from scratching the itch of going to speak to the under butler.

Alfred greeted the blonde with a mixed look as he came in, pleased to see him, but not pleased that he had to return to wearing a footman's livery to help Mr Carson serve upstairs in Thomas and Jimmy's absence, especially now the family had returned from London. Therefore Alfred was anxious to talk to Jimmy and find out when he would be relieving him from his upstairs duty. "All right Jimmy, just got back?"

"Not long ago. What are you doing in livery? Thought you'd gone up in the world; to be Mrs Patmore's bitch." Jimmy turned his nose up, not in the mood to exchange words with the ginger headed runner bean.

"Rather be Mrs Patmore's bitch than Mr Barrow's. What's wrong?" Jimmy's downcast expression not escaping the taller man's notice, the former realising that he must be completely transparent for Alfred of all people to notice.

"Don't you all know?"

"Well yeah about the mugging, but I heard you and Mr Barrow had a falling out."

"So? What's it to you?" Jimmy not trusting that the footman/cook was enquiring after his state of mind in a friendly capacity.

"Nothing, just… why were you in London with him anyway?" Everyone knew Thomas and Jimmy were close, but taking a trip out, leaving the upstairs without footman nor under butler, was a topic of discussion over the past couple of days, there must have been extraordinary circumstances involved and Alfred was dying to know what they were.

"We were friends on a day out. Why? Think we were shagging down an alley somewhere? We wouldn't have to go to London for that." Jimmy knew he was being vile, but he didn't have to point it out as Alfred already knew the footman was not himself.

"You're being crude today."

"Sorry, I'm tired. I- well you know what happened."

"Yeah. I'm sorry about that, if you want to talk about it, I'm here, I'll be better to you than Mr Barrow, you don't need him."

Though Alfred didn't know the truth of him and Thomas' relationship it still scared Jimmy slightly of the implications of what being better to him might mean. "Thanks Alfred." Even in his nicety, Jimmy could not help but hate Alfred in that moment, that he thought Thomas meant so little to him, was infuriating.

"How bad were you hurt?"

"I uh- were kicked in the stomach and me back. So if you're wondering how long you'll be wearing livery for, it will be until I can bend over the table." He didn't want to say that he bore knife wounds, it seemed just too severe, too personal to tell Alfred.

"No, well yes, but that's not the only reason I were asking." Alfred felt guilty that Jimmy, who was dealing with enough, could see through his veil of sympathy, "Can I see them?"

"What?"

"Your scars? I assume you have them."

Jimmy was astounded by Alfred's expression, which was of an excited awe. "Alfred, having scars isn't cool."

"I know, but still. Can I see?"

"No. You don't want to." Jimmy warned him

"They that bad?"

"Yes." Jimmy gave him such a hard unquestioning look that Alfred shrank back.

"Bloody Mr Barrow, he shouldn't have taken you out."

"It's not his fault, I wanted to go."

"I thought that's why you fell out? Because it were his idea that you go out?"

Jimmy cursed himself. After what he said to Thomas he felt he had to defend the under butler, but now he had to invent some lie which would have to be worse than the original reason. "No, no he uh- he provoked the men, he flashed his money about, damn stupid. Then after it happened he just seemed to forget that I've been hurt, hasn't asked me once how I've been."

"Never mind him. Forget it. I'm here for you."

"Thanks." Jimmy said doubtfully, "Remember though, you shouldn't be talking about it, I shouldn't have even said _that_. So keep quiet or you'll get in trouble with Mr Carson." How could he forget it? It was impossible. Alfred was being kind to him, but he didn't want Alfred, he wanted Thomas, who he only hoped would never hear what Jimmy had said about him.

"James? Will you come to the office?" Mr Carson finally summoned the footman.

"Right away Mr Carson."

Jimmy followed the butler into his office and saw Thomas was already there waiting, his hands obediently behind his back in attention for what Mr Carson was to say to them. Now Thomas was no longer wearing his coat and scarf Jimmy saw the dressing of his neck wound and it made him shudder, imagining just what it would have been like for him to have to see it every time he looked in the mirror, knowing other people could see it, that they knew someone else had left their mark on him, a mark Jimmy could never match.

"Mr Barrow, James, it's good to have you both back." Mr Carson greeted the pair now they were both present.

"Thank you Mr Carson."

"Mrs Hughes told me what happened in London, about your mugging, and that you both suffered some severe physical injuries, so you will both be on light duties until you have recovered, which means that James, you will be given some cleaning to do downstairs and-"

"I'm sorry Mr Carson but what about upstairs dinner? What with Alfred in the kitchen there will be no footmen." Thomas couldn't think of Mr Carson serving the entire family by himself.

"Alfred has been brought back in as a footman for the time being, it's only for a couple of days while you are both recovering, and the new man will be here tomorrow. His Lordship won't be having guests, and he has been informed of your situation and is naturally sympathetic to any temporary adjustments being made. However if you feel you are able to help serve upstairs- not to put any pressure on you as I of course can manage- but all the same I would appreciate it."

"I think I can Mr Carson," Thomas offered, since his wounds were not deep enough to cause him too much physical trouble and he still craved the distraction, "I can't speak for James though."

"I'm sorry Mr Carson, I would but I hurt my back badly, so I can't really bend over the table." Thomas, no matter his feelings towards the blonde now, felt a stab of guilt as he was reminded of the other's injuries, seeing them just as they were in his nightmares, and that physically Jimmy's wounds were worse than his own even though he had done far less to justify deserving them.

"I understand James. Thank you Mr Barrow. Also I trust you were told that you will be showing around the new footman, Alexander."

"Yes Mr Carson."

"He's a very pleasant young man, and seems conscientious, I'm sure you'll have no trouble with him whatsoever."

Thomas thought that if Mr Carson liked him then Thomas most definitely wouldn't, as was the circumstance in their feelings towards Alfred. "Thank you." Thomas said nonetheless, inducting a footman being better than spending the day polishing some silver with Jimmy, trying not to let dormant thoughts take over him.

"All right, well if you just let me know how you're getting on, and when you can return to full duties-"

"Of course Mr Carson." Thomas replied.

"Right. Well you can both take the day, Mr Barrow I will expect you for upstairs dinner and James, will you be joining us in the servants' hall this evening?"

"Yes Mr Carson, I think I can manage that."

"Very good."

They went from Mr Carson's office, straight upstairs to their rooms where they would take the day to rest up. Jimmy at one point went to knock on Thomas' door, but the under butler was not there, Jimmy was both relieved and frustrated by his absence and so returned to his room to sleep until he was called downstairs for dinner, he was pleased to see that Thomas made an appearance, dressed in his uniform, having helped Mr Carson serve dinner upstairs. Jimmy wanted to ask where he was when he knocked on his door but didn't want the staff to think he'd been checking up on him.

"How are you both? Are you feeling better?" Anna asked the two men. The staff all stopped eating to hear the response, having been told by Mr Carson not to speak to Thomas or Jimmy about what happened to them, and so this breach of the barrier and the possibility for some gossip was very welcome to them.

"Still twinges a bit, but I'll live thanks." Thomas replied casually, not mentioning that Jimmy had ripped his heart from his chest straight through the cross the Duke had carved into his skin.

"James?" Anna looked at the blonde footman.

"Can't do much in way of heavy lifting or anything but doesn't hurt so much."

"Did they take much?"

"Who?" Jimmy asked, forgetting all too easily the story Victoria had conjured for them.

"The men who robbed you."

"That's twice that's happened to you Mr Barrow," Miss O'Brien pointed out, "you should be more careful not to flash your money around."

"Thank you Miss O'Brien, I'll bear that in mind." Thomas wasn't the only one giving a disapproving look to the ladies' maid who seemed to be making light of their ordeal, it could even be said that she was enjoying it.

"You should, or someone else might get hurt next time, oh wait, someone else already did."

"That'll do Miss O'Brien." Mr Carson and Mr Bates spoke simultaneously.

"Just giving him some friendly advice." Miss O'Brien justified her heartless intent.

"Indeed."

"So did they take much?" Anna brought the conversation back on its previously traversed path.

"Not really, I were more worried about our train tickets to get back here, luckily we weren't carrying them on us at the time." Thomas spoke this time, to avoid Jimmy making another blunder.

"I don't understand people sometimes. You just walk along and someone does something like that."

"It's the world we live in." Thomas' smile contorted into a wince as the wound on his heart burned in punishment for his attempt to forget his pain.

"It's sad. You just can't trust anyone these days can you?" Anna said rhetorically.

No, he really couldn't.

Thomas went outside after dinner for a cigarette; he needed air, even though he went for a long walk after speaking to Mr Carson, hence the absence from his room. He needed to clear his head. He was afraid of the walls, the walls which closed him in and made his chest feel like it was squeezing the life from him. That was why he delayed returning to his room, though a small part of him hoped that Jimmy would come out and talk to him. It pained him to see the footman, and to speak to him, as he only thought back to his nightmare, but in doing so would help him make a decision, a decision he didn't want to make, but had to make, and he knew that once he had set down the course then he would know what he would have to do.

After a period of deliberation as to whether he should come outside, Jimmy decided that he had to talk to Thomas at some point so he may as well get it out of the way, and having spent nearly two days apart might have helped clear the air, and Thomas' head. "Thomas, do you want to go for a walk?" Jimmy sheepishly asked him.

"No thank you James." Thomas was as stunned as Jimmy at his formality, but it was the only way he felt he could have this conversation.

For Jimmy it was just a testament of how things now were, and he hated it. "Thomas I can't stand this, tell me what to do."

"Go to bed." The older man finding that now it came to it he was not ready to have this discussion, and put the cigarette to his lips to occupy them.

"Thomas, I'm so sorry. I'd take it back if I could-"

"But you can't."

Of course he couldn't, no matter how much he wished it; so instead Jimmy asked his question; "On the train… you said about me picking a bluebell and making it all go away. What did you mean by that?"

"Nothing." Thomas shuffled his feet amongst the gravel to give the appearance of indifference to his question, but it didn't work.

"Did the Duke pick you a bluebell?" The words hit them both hard, taking immediate notice of their own scars with their hands.

"Yes. He did. Once." Thomas looked at the cigarette burning down in his fingers, the only true friend he would ever have, to resort to when he had nothing left.

"You think I'm like him don't you?"

"No!" Thomas cried immediately, needing to believe that it was true as much as wanting to believe it, in the same way he didn't want Jimmy to think that he thought such a thing about him.

"You thought I was him on the train." Jimmy believed.

"No, you just-" Thomas threw down his cigarette and turned his back to Jimmy, unsure of how to go on, of how to say what he needed to; the truth. "When I look at you, I see him. I think of him. I think of him all the time, my head hurts. I can't make it stop. No matter how hard I try."

Jimmy took a step towards Thomas hoping to be some comfort, though he knew none existed between them now, "You should go to the doctors. They'll help you-"

"No! I can't. I can't go." Thomas faced the blonde but keeping his eyes upon the floor.

"Then tell me what to do Thomas, and I'll do it, because I don't want to hurt you. I am not him. I told you that before, remember? I am and will never be him." Jimmy held the sleeve of Thomas' coat, the older man apprehensively looked into the younger's dark blue eyes, wet with sadness, but still so beautiful, yet Thomas could not see it, there was no beauty left in the world for him to cling on to, not even in the eyes of this boy.

"That still doesn't change the fact that when I look at you I see his face, and I feel- I feel…"

"Thomas-"

"Just leave me be. Please. Please if you want to help me then just leave me be." Thomas took his arm from the youth's grasp and faced out towards the fields in the distance questioning whether to wander out into them just to get away from this nightmare he was living.

"Can't I help you and be with you? You could talk to Victoria, why can't you talk to me?"

"Because it's not the same."

"Is it because you don't trust me?" Jimmy came around Thomas and stood before him, to hold him still so he couldn't turn from him again, "Please, just for once, talk to me as if I were her and tell me; do you trust me?"

"I can't!" Thomas cried abjectly. "I can't."

"Then how can we be together if you don't trust me?" Jimmy asked him, expecting Thomas to immediately take back everything because they had to be together, they couldn't be torn apart by this; by his stupidity in that one second in London, in those words he wished were never spoken.

"I don't think we can." Thomas lifted his eyes so Jimmy could see in them that he didn't want to be saying these things, but he had no choice. He couldn't take any more hurt. He was tired of taking risks. He was exhausted.

Jimmy relaxed his grip, and gave himself some space to think about what Thomas' reply meant; that it must have been the answer to another question, not this. "So that's it, because of him?"

"No… it's because of me. It's always because of me."

"Please Thomas. None of this is your fault-"

"It _is_ Jimmy, and you can't do or say anything to change that. So please, just leave. Leave." Thomas beseeched him, so he could be left alone, like he should be.

"If that's what you want-" Jimmy whispered, not wanting to draw out their pain any further than he had to.

"That's the way it has to be." Thomas did not show that his heart was breaking with every breath, otherwise he might change his mind, but for both their sakes he could not.

"But, you can't- we can't just be over like this! There must be something I can do-" Jimmy span, clutching his head in disbelief.

"There isn't. There's nothing Jimmy, and there never will be. You may be the same as before, but I'm not. I'm not me, and I don't think I ever will be again. You want the old Thomas, the old Thomas who wanted you, who could protect and love you… but he's gone. He's gone Jimmy."

Jimmy choked as he gazed upon the man before him; the man who he knew himself was not the same. Victoria was right, he had changed, and he could see it; he looked empty, fragility emanated from his eyes. Jimmy was afraid that if he spoke another word Thomas would shatter right there between the stones under his feet. "I don't know what to say."

"Goodnight would suffice."

Jimmy took a sharp breath at how coldly he was being treated by a man whom two days ago made him the happiest he had ever been, things had changed so much it did not seem real. "Goodnight then… Mr Barrow." Jimmy whispered, as a tear trickled solemnly down his cheek.

"Goodnight… James."

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**Note for Ellstra; remember I said that I added 1 line which made me change 30+ odd chapters? It was in here. The conversation was supposed to end after Jimmy asking; "Can you trust me?" and Thomas originally replying; "I don't know." And them saying goodnight. Thomas and Jimmy were technically supposed to still be together after this chapter, but I changed it so now they're obviously not. I'm sorry if this upsets you. What can I say? I'm evil :P**


	14. Demons

**I know this story is pretty harrowing, and unfortunately there is more to come, but not too much more. **

**Sorry, this chapter will be quite descriptive; I hope you can appreciate why. I have mainly done this from Thomas' point of view so far, but I thought it was important to put in a bit more of Jimmy's perspective in this chapter. I desperately hope I can do the feelings of these characters justice. It's very difficult but I've given it my best go to make it feel as real as possible. Thank you.**

**Thank you for reviews/ follows/ favourites. You are all wonderful.**

**Warning for trauma/ suicidal thoughts**

**Apologies for any spelling/ grammar mistakes**

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Jimmy returned to his room, ignoring the questions of his mental state which were bombarded upon him by the staff, as he stormed upstairs, moving quickly and keeping his head down so that no one could see the tears forming in his eyes. He slammed his bedroom door shut and undressed without any diligence, ripping the clothes from his body in a fury to get into bed and just settle. Having removed his braces and undone the front of his trousers he let gravity assist them to the floor, while he removed his shirt. As he exposed his flesh he went to cover himself but stopped as he caught the sight of himself in the mirror. Turning slowly back, his night shirt held loosely in his hands he saw himself properly for the first time since London. The massive bandages across his stomach. Without looking down he let the shirt fall from his fingers and felt for the edges of the dressing and slowly began to peel them away. He just wanted to look, to see what he would have to live with for the rest of his life.

His face was rigid until his mouth opened to take a feral breath at what was being revealed. He did not remove the whole dressing, he could not bear to see his wound in its entirety just yet, just a few inches was all he needed to form an idea in his mind of what the rest would be like. With every new stitch revealed a gasp and an accompanying tear were drawn from Jimmy, as it just seemed to keep going. He examined but less than a quarter of the stitched up incision, not being able to expose himself to any more without fearing he would fall apart within himself. The stitches pulled together his skin in a hideous formation of small imprecise vertical lines, his insides trying to seep through the gaps in between them. He swivelled to see the length of the dressing on his back, how long the incision beneath that one would be, he did not need to see it, it would no doubt be the same as the one on his front. He was strangely fortunate at least that the man who worked on him knew his way around a knife, as otherwise there was a real danger he could have been killed. That's what Victoria's mother said to him, but did it matter now?

His fingers wanted to touch the stitches but they were repelled by the contrast of what was there before. He remembered what his skin was once like, soft, perfect, unblemished, but now he was deformed. He would be like this for the rest of his life. It would never be the same. What would people say when they saw? What would he say to them in return? It was such a big part of his life, part of his being now, something that affected him so deeply and yet he had to keep it a secret. At least it wasn't as bad as Thomas' in that people could see his scar, he could not hide it unless he wore a scarf, as was the Duke's cruel purpose. What was his purpose for him? So Thomas could never have sex with Jimmy without thinking of it? What good was that now they were apart? At least before his suffering had a purpose, now it was just a big ugly corruption of his flesh that meant nothing except to flood his days with pain. Tears glided down his naked chest, along the goose bumps forming there. A chill sent shivers through his body as he suddenly felt the wind through his slightly ajar window. He put on his nightclothes and got into bed, folding the pillow across his face to envelope his distraught features, for he had suffered, he had suffered deeply. Jimmy hoped it would not be for long; his break up with Thomas. That this was a phase, that Thomas would forgive him and realise he needed him; that he wasn't meant to be alone and without him. Because now Jimmy had the experience of being with Thomas he could not imagine being without him; and now it had come to pass he hated to think what the next days held for him. He felt alone, he felt vulnerable, and could not imagine Thomas to be feeling any different. He needed someone, and by god it had to be Thomas.

Through all the pain of uncertainty, one thing was known to him; that he hated the Duke, as much as he hated himself.

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Not long after Jimmy left him Thomas decided to go for a walk across the fields. The moon was rising in the distance, and he wanted to take in the night air that would soon fall upon him. He felt so alone, though it was so peaceful being out there, but at the same time he felt unsafe. He therefore did not go far enough to leave the sight of the Abbey, he did not want to tempt his fate that with each step he became more and more convinced was coming.

He stopped.

It all seemed so surreal. He would open his eyes and be in bed, wrapped in sweat soaked sheets, awaking from another nightmare. What happened? Had he really ended things with Jimmy? That sweet boy, that pure, innocent, gorgeous boy. Why? What for? Because Thomas should be alone, he only brought pain, pain was his purpose to the world. A harbinger of suffering to all he dared to touch. There was only this. But now it was done Thomas grew more and more uncertain. His mind was locked into a phase of unwilling testament; he was not part of this world, he held no place in it, he affected nothing, he was nothing, nothing to himself nor anyone else except a dark stain on the earth consuming all that crosses it. He was dust in the wind. His life just one circle of malevolent abasement, distrust and horror orbited him and now it had closed upon him in all its abhorred torment, casting itself down upon him; a spectre presenting itself before the blindness of his lidless eyes that would never close or see.

There was nothing.

Nothing.

He was in his room, his feet anchored to the ground. Half of his clothes were missing, only in his night shirt and long johns he stood, in the darkness of his room before a long mirror, the moon shining upon its silvery surface so his body gleamed, the cream of his clothes reflecting the light, the dressing across his neck holding a prominent place in his sight, the background faded into darkness. He trembled, in a thousand ways for a million reasons, but only one mattered. He could see the Duke standing there, by his shoulder in the mirror, that face that looked at him from across the club, smiling at him in the dark, lurking, waiting for him. The fires of hell blazing around him, in command to his piercing eyes stabbing into his naked flesh and shredding his bones. His evil shaking the foundations of the earth, those terrible walls shrinking in upon him. The Duke's whispers from the shadowy haze mocked Thomas' breaking soul as it crumbled before him into something indescribable; lesser than man, more than a feeling, more powerful, more potent; a ghost of silent death. "You are mine Thomas, you are mine." He could feel it coming, the sound hurt his ears, like they were bleeding, it hurt his head, he had to take deep breaths to stop the tears, from the anxiety choking him, it was at the back of his throat. He begged them to stop, to stop making that sound, to stop talking, it was suffocating, 'just leave me be, please leave me alone I can't take it and I can't show myself, I can't do it please it's too much, I'll break down and never come back, spare my mind please! Please spare my mind! Just stop, please, just stop!'

"STOP!"

A cry.

A crash.

Silence.

Shame. Regret. Always fear.

The mirror shattered, pieces crashed down onto the floor. They sparkled in an irony of tranquil beauty around him, through these pieces he could see the world from a thousand views, none of them his own, how he wished he could be one of them. He leaned against the wall beside him and slid down onto the floor. His legs stretched before him. The shards of the broken mirror surrounded him. They taunted him in a cacophony of agony, begging him to seize one. What else could he do? A shard grazed his fingertips as he curled his fingers about it, the sharpness perforated his skin, but it only tightened his grip of it, blood trailed down the length of the shard, Thomas wondered from where it came as it did not feel like it was his own. His hand shook, the blade digging deeper and deeper into his. In his pleas he only asked for the shaking to cease. He looked into the shard of mirror and saw nothing in its relfection but the red of his eyes. The only part of him that seemed real. His eyes in a dark of shadow, but a glimmer of dying life disguised by a haze of despair. The Jimmy of his nightmares was right; he was pathetic. There was no difference between them, they were one and the same, and he had to escape from them both. It was the only way to save them. The only way to stop the blood flowing, the scars rotting, the mind collapsing into ash; into end.

He questioned his very existence, his right to his life, and even if he had it he questioned his reason for existing. Should he exist at all? Maybe not. There was no great scheme for him, no future, he saw nothing beyond this night, beyond this moment, this second, this feeling, this thought of end. He should not exist. He did not want to.

He held the glass in his crimsoned fingers, in the same way that Edward Courtenay did to put an end to his troubles. Was it really so simple? A touch of the edge against the skin of his wrist, a small sudden movement and all the pain would flow from him as blood cascading onto the floor. Then he would find peace, the peace which called to him in all its angelic splendour. Nothing in the last four weeks felt more right as this thought which resonated through his mind.

"Mr Barrow?"

Could it be angels beckoning him, assuring him of his path?

"Thomas? What on earth has happened?" Mrs Hughes dispensed with formality in shock at the sight before her as she came into Thomas' room. His neighbours had heard the crash and Mrs Hughes insisted that she be the one to investigate. The man on the floor did not move, his breathing quickened, his mind was so corrupted it could not think, he could do nothing, just look at the housekeeper and hope she would take nothing from the scene before her.

"Mrs Hughes. What are you doing here?" He tucked the blood stained shard behind his back, keeping it from her sight in his shame.

"I came to see if you were all right." The broken pieces of mirror cracked beneath her feet as she moved towards the under butler. "What happened?"

"I were tired and fell into the mirror… cut me hand on some glass." Thomas waved his sliced hand jovially, to force from her mind ideas that were clearing running through it.

"Do you need a Doctor called for?"

"No, it's not bad." Thomas glanced at his hand. Realising now that it was his right, though his mind was not placed to see how this would affect his work just yet, as now he had two mutilated hands, not one. "What do you want?"

"Victoria said you might need to talk."

"She was wrong."

"I see." The housekeeper by no means convinced as she surveyed the shattered mirror and the under butler lying among its remnants, "That's not like her. I'm here for you Thomas, we all are, I know you've had ups and downs, but we have all grown to care for you, even Mr Bates and Anna. You've shown your worth, and we know that Downton wouldn't be the same without you. You didn't deserve what happened to you and you have been through a great deal. You're not alone. Let me know if you need anything, and I will do what I can, even if it's going to the doctors. I would be happy to come with you."

"Why are you so kind to me?"

"Because Mr Barrow, you have done some things in your time, but you have certainly made up for them, and if what you have endured can be called punishment, well, it's far beyond what you deserve." Only the tears in Thomas' eyes showed Mrs Hughes that her words had hit him hard, but with all their positive intent, "Don't think me so kind though, tomorrow the new footman's coming, he's got some French name which has driven Mr Carson half mad, he even thought the lad had misspelt his name, that's how much he didn't want to believe it, but luckily the English version is hardly different, I fear he wouldn't have got the job otherwise. Anyway he's young and seems very kind but spirited, you'll be with him for a couple of days to make sure he's settling in all right while you recover from your injuries. Old and new." The housekeeper nodded to Thomas' bleeding hand which he pressed into the side of his long johns to try and stop the flow and so Mrs Hughes would not have to see, for she had seen enough of his blood in the last month.

"I'm babysitting then." Thomas sniffed.

Mrs Hughes kept her eyes on Thomas' otherwise she would find it hard to continue to ignore everything else around her, as ignore it she must if that was what Thomas needed her to do. "Yes, but I don't think you'll mind so much."

"Why's that?"

"You'll know when you see him."

'Oh yes, definitely not setting us up.' Thomas thought wryly, communicating such a feeling with his eyes which had grown softer through his immense vulnerability.

"Will you be all right?" The woman asked.

"Yes Mrs Hughes. I'll clean up in the morning." Thomas gestured to the pieces of mirror across the floor without mentioning them, unless he risk the onset of tears in the presence of the housekeeper.

"Nonsense, the hall boys will take care of it." Mrs Hughes assured him in worry that the under butler might do himself harm in the process of clearing the mess in the state he was in.

"Can they leave it for tonight?" He already felt too much shame having been seen in this state by another which even he found unbearable to see himself in, and for now his mind just begged for him to be alone. As tears shed seeped uncontrollably from his sore, tired eyes.

"Very well, but first thing in the morning I'll send them in."

"Thank you." Thomas guiltily but gratefully whimpered.

"Good night then Thomas."

"Good night Mrs Hughes."

The housekeeper, defying her conscience, which told her to keep her distance, touched Thomas on the head, and stroked his out of place hair, the man looked up to her and felt as though he had been blessed by the warm, life- giving hand of a saint and closed his eyes to emanate himself in that touch. With that, it was gone, and she left. Like she had never been there at all, but the feeling she brought with her stayed with Thomas. It was like she knew what he was going to do, but if she didn't her words were all the more impressive as they had made Thomas believe that perhaps he did matter, and that just maybe he should exist after all.


	15. Alexandre

**Thank you so much for reviews/ follows/ favourites. They absolutely make my day!**

**Apologies for any spelling/ grammar mistakes**

**Just for reference, the new footman is called Alexandre, but I'm going to write his name according to how people pronounce it, so if it's pronounced in the English way (as Mr Carson would prefer it) I'll write it as Alexander, if it's prounounced in the French way then I will write it as Alexandre. (I don't use either of these names often in favour of just 'Alex', but I thought I would just let you know so there's no confusion if I alternate between them and you don't think I'm getting confused with my own character's name or making typos :P )**

* * *

Thomas felt like he had been held under water. That was how it was after every panic attack. It took him time to adjust from the sensation of being drowned. He had anticipated this, and bought a bottle of strong whisky when he was in London, which he secreted under his bed. It had to last him, so he was sparing of it, so when Mrs Hughes left his room he took just a couple of generous sips straight from the bottle itself, not wasting precious time to get a glass. It did little to help him feel better except to numb that same recurring dull pain in his mind which disabled him. He crawled over to his bed, where he passed out, mentally exhausted, and hoping that with the new day he would feel refreshed. He slept better, not without haunting dreams, which he had accepted in his mind would not leave him so easily just by smashing a mirror or having a drink.

He woke early to the sound of late migrating birds outside his window and he gazed at the mess on his floor, remembering what happened last night he drew his hand down his face in shame and saw to the burdensome task of cleaning his room, sweeping the pieces of broken mirror to one side, for the hall boys to see to in an hour or so when the rest of downstairs were up and about, before he tended to the wound on his hand. Luckily he was truthful in what he said to Mrs Hughes, in that it wasn't bad and it didn't need any stitches, though it would scar and he would struggle to carry things for a couple of days. Once he dressed the wound he chuckled to himself in irony as he took a new set of gloves from his drawer. Since he wore a glove every day he always kept spare pairs in case he needed them, but this time he would have use of both, he took a pair of scissors and, grinning insanely, cut the fingers off of them, before slipping on both pairs of fingerless gloves. Perfect.

It took Thomas all of an hour to get dressed and make himself presentable, washing away any signs of what had happened to him the night before. He was just in time for the hall boys to knock on his door and remove the mirror from his room. Everyone stood by and watched the spectacle, all wondering just what happened, since Thomas looked as well groomed as usual when he emerged , except the difference of an extra glove, which only Jimmy came to notice.

"Thomas? What happened?"

"Nothing you need to worry about." Thomas didn't look at the footman in favour of adjusting his sleeves, which only drew more attention to his hands.

"Why are you wearing two gloves?"

"It's nothing you need to worry about." He repeated more slowly, "and it's Mr Barrow to you, James." As if he had to remind the footman of his place in relation to him now, but the fact he did so made both men feel like they had to burst into fresh waves of tears, but where they were made that impossible so they both straightened their waistcoats in an awkwardly synchronised motion and went downstairs.

Mrs Hughes was waiting for Thomas downstairs, to inquire about the injury to his hand, having done him a service already in informing Mr Carson of it, to which Thomas only replied that it was fortunate he was only on light duties for the time being, as he could not use his hand properly, and was internally worried about how he would manage with his breakfast.

Jimmy's footsteps were heavier as they came in the servants' hall and strode away to claim a seat as far as possible from the under butler, still angry at him for how unaffected he seemed, how uncaring. Certainly he looked tired, but it was known that he hadn't been sleeping well. He sat down, but the maids also wanted seats so Jimmy was forced to move over so he would be annoyingly sat opposite Thomas. At least it was better than next to him. Seeing the looks the two men gave each other, or rather the lack of them, O'Brien was quick to announce the tension between the two men with an unrestrained sense of mirth. "Oh my, has someone disturbed the nest?"

Thomas was about to respond but he refrained when all heard a banging of the back door which was thrown open, as suddenly in from the cold emerged a red faced youth, dressed in shorts which came above his white knees, and a polo shirt which showed visible patches of sweat on his chest and back. He doubled over, panting heavily from exertion as he had been out running since daybreak. The world seemed to stop around this youth's movements as he came into the servant's hall, and the staff all got a good look at the slim young man of twenty five years, who was introduced by Mr Carson as the new footman, Alexandre Drake (but for the sake of Mr Carson's health was made known as Alexander), who was to start work the next day.

Not a single person in the room could take their eyes off of him. His impressively firm chest, moving at such distraction under his clinging shirt, saw not a mouth in the room close. All it did was encourage them to inspect the rest of him, which could not be faulted as his legs were straight and defined, and his biceps bulged slightly in strength as he raised the collar of his shirt to mop his brow with. His shirt lifted and the maids bit their lips and widened their eyes to take in the glimpse of the footman's taut stomach. They were practically swooning. He brushed aside a strand of his shining auburn hair from his eyes, which had clumped together with sweat, but was still so naturally perfect that it scarcely needed a comb through it, let alone pomade, as it would bounce lightly when he walked. The maids wilted further when he returned their looks with a gentlemanly bow and a gaze into his ebony brown eyes. His cheeks formed dimples when he smiled, but only half of his mouth would fully rise, which could entail roguishness or innocence, while exposing a set of bright white teeth. Jimmy was nervous, knowing what he was now and that he could think more openly about the aesthetics of other men; he could admit to himself that the young man, but a year his senior, was physically perfect. Not with the dark sensuality Thomas emanated, but a smooth brightness. He just prayed to any metaphorical god, for many different reasons, that Thomas did not see it.

However they seemed to abandon Jimmy as Thomas was drawn straight to the new footman, following the promise he made to Victoria to befriend him, as much as he was magnetised by the positive energy the young man gave off. He took Alexandre's hand to shake, remembering to use his left, and guided him into a seat beside him at the table, the new man giving him a roguish/innocent smile in introduction. Jimmy stared at the pair all through breakfast, watching their every move, he could have flicked the crusts of his toast at them, for he didn't know if Thomas was trying to make him jealous or if he just had no thought for him now, but he felt like he could cry seeing the under butler being so friendly to the young athlete. 'That should be me', Jimmy thought, and he remembered when he and Thomas used to be like that. A time that seemed so long ago it could have been a fantasy from a book he once read as a child, that he would then act out but never experience in its reality. It was only made worse by the fact that Alexandre seemed to be inexplicably charming yet humble. He would have left if he could, but he knew that this was his penance for saying such a terrible thing to Thomas, something he could not forgive himself for, and if he could not forgive himself, how could he expect Thomas to?

This didn't stop Jimmy from interrupting Alexandre as he was about to tell the origin of his French name to the servants, who found the controversy it had caused Mr Carson very exciting. Jimmy's comment stopped all activity in the room as he said, mouth full of toast, "I think it makes you sound like a right tosser."

It was the next moment where his hatred for Alexandre became absolute, as it was Thomas' voice that cut over that of Mr Carson, booming across the table, "You watch your mouth James! Now apologise to Alex." 'Oh, it's Alex now is it?' Jimmy thought, contemplating emptying the pot of jam sat before him all over the athletic footman and the under butler, if his misery had not frozen his hands into fists. Alex leaned over the table, to come somewhat between the two men, "It's all right, don't worry about it. I'm sorry my name offends you… James isn't it? But I'm afraid I can't change it, it's sacred to me; it reminds me of my father."

"Is your father called Alexandre?" Thomas asked curiously, ignoring Jimmy's sullen looks.

"No, his favourite author was Alexandre Dumas. My father adored his books and believed in the values they uphold. Values he taught me to believe in, and those memories of him reading me those stories- they're all I have left of him- and I want to remember them every time someone calls my name. Even if it does make me sound like a tosser." Alex added with his roguish smile.

To escape the humiliation of his defeat at the words of the older footman, and the giggles of the servants about the room, who were clearly impressed by Alex's ability to handle himself despite his lack in years, Jimmy could've plunged his face into the jar of jam.

* * *

Thomas took great pleasure in showing Alex around and inducting him into the servants' way of life. Alex had not worked in a great house before, like Alfred he had worked in a hotel, but Thomas could see he had great potential as he had excellent balance and posture. Normally Alex would have helped serve upstairs but he was officially due to start the next day, and remembering Alfred's first try was not the greatest success, so Thomas made it his business to take the young man under his wing. He thought maybe this would be good for him, as a project, something to take his mind off everything, the boy was willing and he was brilliant, in many things, one of them which appealed particularly to Thomas was his kindness, not in the patronising way Anna and Mr Bates were, but only when he had to be. Thomas saw Alex look at his gloves and his neck once, as anyone would at something unexpected, but he didn't say anything, he didn't divert his eyes away and pretend not to be looking, it was a casual thing, almost like he was used to seeing wounds. Most of all Thomas enjoyed their conversation;

"What's with that footman, James? Have I done something wrong?" Alex asked as Thomas handed him a large silver serving tray, to initiate a playful test of balance.

"No, just ignore him, he's a child."

"Still, I don't like confrontation, and I'd rather avoid it in future." Alex steadied himself as Thomas put two silver dishes on the tray.

"I don't know; you handled yourself pretty well back there."

"Thanks. I just hope I haven't made things worse."

Thomas arranged a dozen pieces of cutlery around the sides of the tray, before going to retrieve some candlesticks. "If things are worse it won't be of your doing."

"What do you mean?" Alex struggled to keep his eyes firmly on the tray, increasingly laden with silver, while he talked to the under butler.

"He's conceited, doesn't like people taking attention away from him." The candlesticks were then placed in the dishes. Perhaps just a bit heavier than Alex anticipated.

"I've drawn attention from him?" Alex's arm started to wobble as he started to lose the centre of gravity on the tray.

"Well yes, couldn't you tell by the throngs of gaping people during your grand entrance earlier on?"

"I didn't mean to make a scene, I normally go running, helps me sleep, and keeps me fit and energised, didn't know it was such a big event. As far as the gaping people go I don't know, I didn't notice them; even if I did I wouldn't believe it." Alex said modestly, he puffed out his cheeks and exhaled deeply when he saw Thomas piling glasses now onto his tray, which would most definitely shatter if he dropped the tray, an incident which seemed more certain every time Thomas returned to him with new items for him to carry.

"You're a modest one. I can see why Mr Carson liked you." Thomas grinned at the new footman's expression, as a bead of sweat trickled down his temple and he licked his lips in his worry at not being able to keep hold of the mound of silver and glass upon his tensing arm.

"At least someone likes me. Even if it is the butler."

"The best person if you want promotion."

"I don't really care that much, I just want to be happy, just live in the moment, and not do wrong by anyone."

"You have it all figured out don't you?" Thomas balanced a final tray on Alex's arm and admired the profile of the youth whose eyes were firmly fixed on any slight movements of the silver on the tray, which he kept as still as possible.

"I hope so. Say; do you do this to every new man? Stack a pile of silver on him and watch him squirm?"

"You're the one who wondered how much you could carry." Thomas shrugged complacently.

"Yes, well, that question is definitely answered."

Taking pity on the footman Thomas unloaded Alex's burden until it was light enough for him to feel comfortable carrying what remained to the table and set it down carefully, rolling his shoulder afterwards from a slight ache at maintaining such an uncomfortable position for so long.

"How about you? Tell me about yourself." Alex sat down on a cushioned wooden chair, the under butler not minding the liberty his subordinate took by matching it in sitting down beside him.

"Really?"

"Yes, why?"

Thomas shrugged, he being a man who always kept to himself and as a rule put up boundaries to deter anyone from asking him questions about himself; boundaries that had been breached by this twenty five year old, but finding this revelation was almost welcome. "No one ever asks."

"Well _I _am."

"Not much to tell really. I've been here eleven years, were a footman, worked me way up, was a valet for a while until Mr Bates came along, I were in the medical corps during the war, then came back here, I'd like to be a butler at some point, but can't see it happening for a while."

"Are you married? Or have a girl?" Alex asked; a question that Thomas was so unused to hearing that he had to laugh. "What?"

"No one ever asks me that either. No, I don't."

"Really? There must be girls interested in you." Alex surveyed the under butler in surprise.

"What makes you say that?"

"Well, you're handsome; if I'm allowed to say it, you've got a kind of sensuality about you," Alex jiggled his head in wary consideration, as the corners of Thomas' mouth were triggered into rising ever so slightly by how freely the young man spoke, "You seem kind, and chivalrous enough to defend people like me being attacked by childish footmen." Alex's expression mirroring the under butler's, until the latter hung his head.

"You could get into trouble for saying things like that." Thomas hated to reprimand the boy for this, but it was for his own good, maybe for both their sakes as Thomas didn't want a repeat of history when he believed too soon that Jimmy was like him and nearly lost his job.

"Why? Because people might think I prefer men? I'm not going to lie to you or anyone else about what I think, especially when I'm not doing anything wrong or breaking the law. But if I've made you uncomfortable then-"

"No, no," Thomas stopped him, not for one moment wishing to lock himself back behind the bars of conformity, "It's nice having someone who isn't worried about convention all the time."

"I know what you mean. There's no point in being afraid when I'm doing nothing wrong, and I'm not going to hold back and restrict my character either just because people are so closed minded that they would always prefer to think the worst even though that just makes things worse for _them_ rather than anyone else."

"Couldn't have put it better myself." Thomas touched the young man on the shoulder, to show that he felt the same, "So, do you have a girl?"

"No." Alex replied, not giving much away, while Thomas, like a palmist gazing at a hand, was trying to read him.

"That might soon change. What with the interest you seem to have gathered today."

"Blimey you really know how to welcome someone into a job; make them do a balancing act and tell them they are to be bombarded by women."

"Surprised. Most men would love to be in your shoes right now."

"Then they can have my shoes for all I care. I don't need loads of women, just one is enough."

"Ah, you're one of those." Thomas leaned back, not knowing what he meant himself, but trying to prise open the cover of the firmly closed book of Alexandre Drake.

"I'm not going to ask what you mean; rather I'm just going to say that I am a romantic."

"So will it be poetry you'll be reciting across the kitchen?"

"No. I don't think so. For now I'm happy being alone, so long as I get on all right with everyone, I don't need more than that right now." Alex smiled ardently.

"You're very mature."

"Is that another way for you to call me boring?"

"Not at all. When Mr Carson talked about you I thought you might be a bit of a wet blanket, but I'm pleasantly surprised, might have to compliment Mr Carson on his taste." A monumental occasion, someone should make a note of this for the history books.

"Thank you Mr Barrow."

"Call me Thomas."

"Well Thomas," Alex grinned at the liberty he was allowed, "I think it's your turn for the balancing test." Alex stood and made for the organised row of silver and brought back the large silver tray which he held out ready to be received by the under butler, who took the tray and returned it solemnly to the table.

"I'm afraid I can't."

"Oh yes, you're my superior." Alex took a slight bow to show he meant no harm and he knew his place despite the privilege of being allowed to call Thomas by his first name.

"That; and I am physically unable." Thomas twitched his hands slightly instinctively, whether Alex noticed or not was not a factor.

"Is it age?" Alex said with such insincerity that Thomas could only raise his eyebrows in mock offence.

"Excuse me?"

The pair just laughed with each other contently until Alex asked seriously about Thomas' hands, the twitch not having escaped his attention.

"War wound. Domestic wound." Thomas lifted his each of his hands respectively.

"I assume that since you're covering it up you won't let me look?"

"You're a smart one aren't you?" He said with an appreciative sarcasm.

"I won't push you if you don't want to show me, but if you want to talk about it ever you can."

"How old are you?" Thomas felt it inappropriate such a young man telling Thomas he could be taken into his confidence after just one day of knowing him, but then again Victoria was still even younger, but could he trust this footman? Though it did make a nice change; a man trying to take care of him for once, looking out for him, even if only as a polite courtesy.

"I'm twenty five. But as you've noticed, I'm mature for me age."

"Indeed you are Mr Drake, indeed you are."

* * *

Thomas spent the entire day with Alex, only managing to see Jimmy at meal times since he was still recuperating. Alex asked Thomas if he wanted to sit up a while and chat, their rooms being next to each other and Alex's for some reason having two beds, was convenient, but Thomas was very tired and he would meet Alex outside the next morning when the youth returned from his run. Thomas had no idea how the boy would cope with all his work and get up at the crack of dawn to run, then dress and be downstairs with everyone else, but admired his drive.

As he changed for bed Thomas felt strangely uplifted. Alex was like a ray of sunshine in the dark cave that had been left of his life after the eradication of the goodness that once existed there. It was strange but even after everything, by conversing with Alex, Thomas was able to forget for just a few seconds at a time about the Duke, and about Jimmy. He could even smile, when last night he thought of ending his sorrow, a sorrow that seemed to be non- existent around the auburn footman. He didn't understand it, but he didn't care, if Alex took his mind away from everything that made his chest ache and mind blacken then he would by all means stay close to him. He wanted to write to Victoria and tell her, ask her what she may make of this, but he couldn't, his hand could not yet hold a pen. A pity, as it meant lying back on his bed, in his solitude, staring at the ceiling; remembering, reliving, and wondering if it would ever stop. He took the bottle of whisky from the shoe box under his bed, where it was concealed, and took a drink, holding the bottom of the bottle to his forehead, feeling the glass press into his skull. Waiting until he felt numb enough to feel ready for sleep.

* * *

"NOOOOO!"

"Mr Barrow?! It's all right Mr Barr- Thomas. Tell me what happened."

"No. No. No. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. Don't hurt him. Kill me. Kill me."

"Shhh, calm down Thomas. Calm down. It's all right. It's all right."

"Alex?" The under butler opened his dilated eyes as they were fixed upon the young footman's, which were staring back at him with a determined concern.

"Yes Thomas, it's me. Tell me what happened."

"Alex?"

Thomas was sat up in bed, he was bathed in sweat, his back was against Alex's firm chest and the youth's arms were around him, one stabilising his head, the other across his chest, pressed into Thomas' scar, but the older man didn't notice. There were only sounds, and echoes of a resurgent memory. Thomas hyperventilated, his breath was hoarse, he was cold, but so hot, his knees shook, his legs spasmed out of control. He needed to get out, but strong arms held him back under control. A soft pacifying breath muted his ear to all else but the voice that would follow it.

"Thomas. What did you see?"

"He was here." Thomas gasped, breaths starting to catch in his throat, he felt he might suffocate, but the arms would not release him, and nor did the voice stop.

"What was he doing? Did he speak to you?"

"Yes."

"What did he say? It's all right Thomas." Alex said, as he felt Thomas writhing in his grasp, "You can tell me, you're safe. What did he say?"

"That I'm making him do this. That I'm making him do this." Thomas rocked back and forth in the footman's arms, who stroked his hair to try and relax him, to make him feel that he was protected, that he was not alone. Thomas' deformed hands curled around Alex's forearm which was stretched across his chest.

"What happened then?"

"He killed him. He killed me."

The auburn footman winced as Thomas dug his fingernails deeply into his skin as he spluttered the last words, but he adhered. "He's gone Thomas. He's not going to hurt you. I won't let that happen. No one will let that happen. Understand?" There was only the sound of heavy disjointed breathing, which had slowed gradually, but Alex was reassured at least that the man in his arms had stopped rocking, "If you could write the ending for your dream what would it be?" Alex whispered with a warm hearted tenderness as he rested his head upon the soaked locks of the older man's hair.

"I- I don't-" Thomas cried.

"Yes you do. I know it doesn't end in you or him getting hurt." Alex had no idea who 'he' was, but it did not matter to him.

"I'd want him to leave me, to leave him." He sobbed.

"Of course you do." Alex brought his other hand to Thomas' head and pressed his lips to the older man's hair.

"I want him dead." Thomas, overcome with all the emotion savoured from his dream now let loose in all its reality upon the the younger man, wept desperately into Alex's chest.

"I know, Thomas, I know." These were the only words Alex could give in comfort as he had no idea what Thomas was talking about, it made no sense to him but it was of no importance that he did not know, all that mattered was the fear both men shared in that moment.

The footman held the under butler in his arms until the latter fell asleep. To anyone else it would seem so wrong, but after this, they were not strangers anymore.

* * *

**So, what do we think of young Mr Drake?**


	16. Jealousy

**Thank you so much for reading, and for any reviews/ follows/ favourites. I really appreciate it.**

**Apologies for any spelling/ grammar mistakes.**

* * *

Thomas woke up alone the next morning, he was rested, he was calm, he had slept; a dreamless sleep. It was bliss. He had such little recognition of Alex coming to him that night that he could scarcely believe it had happened. His head sank back into his pillow as he thought about that night, before Alex came to him. His nightmare was the same as what had visited him every night since the incident itself took place, but there was one difference; how it affected him now. As it only convinced him that he could not be with Jimmy, he could not risk his life, any more than he could risk his own, as he believed, he truly believed the Duke could come back. He did once, it was now possible he could do it again. That his nightmares would become real, and it would be all his fault. What's more, his vulnerability was so intense that if the Duke would return that Thomas would not be able to protect Jimmy, he doubted his ability to even protect himself. There was no room for him to care about anyone else right now, he was not strong enough to worry, to care, to feel anything but a need to protect himself. He trusted Victoria, the only person in the world he dared to feel such a thing for, and after the night before he had to be careful with his trust of Alex, which would depend entirely on how the new footman would react towards the under butler that day, after seeing him at his lowest and most vulnerable point. But he was curious about what happened that night, as whatever it was that Alex had done to him… it worked.

Thomas went outside for a morning cigarette, and saw Alex as he came in from his run, he smiled at Thomas, so casually that the older man questioned if he had in fact dreamed the young man coming into his room. Thomas did not bring up the issue, he was ashamed of how he acted, and in a way he was glad that Alex was behaving so normally, but he was worried that perhaps it had not happened at all, and that he had started hallucinating. Which was something he needed to know the truth of, otherwise he would have to start to question which of his experiences were real and which were in his mind. For now though, Thomas would give the boy time to broach the subject with him, as he continued to show him the ropes around the place before his big debut at dinner that evening, with Alfred returning to the kitchen (much to the delight of all concerned). Alex was very nervous about his first appearance, but Thomas assured him it would be fine and he proved the day before that he was capable of wielding the equivalent of ten dishes, when that night his only responsibility would be carrying a single jug of sauce. Thomas took Alex in the cleaning cupboard and showed him which chemicals needed to be used for what, not just what he needed to know as a footman, but Alex was a curious young man and asked what each and every one of them were used for. It took time, but Thomas did not mind, as he felt the boy was only asking to make it a test for the under butler, in pay back for the balancing act he was pressured into yesterday. It had been a long time since Thomas was taken on a ride with regard to his job, but he liked showing off, and seeing how impressed the boy seemed at his memory of the different applications of all the bottles' contents.

"What's this one?" Alex removed a bottle, filled with crystals. Thomas smiled as he thought of an anecdote.

"One time, when Alfred first started, I were trying to er- sabotage him, and told him to rub these into the late Mr Crawley's tails to get rid of a stain, and it ended up burning a hole in them."

Alex bit his lip to hold in his amusement, he knew what Thomas had done was inappropriate but hearing it from someone who came across as quite strict and professional, in relation to something happening so far back in the past, it warranted a chuckle from both men.

"That's wicked."

"It was. Started a vicious chain of events, where I ended up on bottom, so for me own sake I won't be doing that again."

"So what was he supposed to use?"

"These. You use these to get stains out of tails." It was a jar of very fine crystals, Alex took the bottle so he could remember the name in future, and tried to pull the lid off, but it was tight on, but instead of giving up the young footman was more determined and with a yank the lid flew off and the contents went over their faces. They stood in a stoic silence as Alex pulled a consecutive variety of faces, all with the same meaning; 'woopsy'. "You know you're cleaning that up?" Thomas said; his cheek coated with powder.

"Yes. I think I best start with you." Alex reached up and brushed the powder from the under butler's face, who flinched at first under the unfamiliar touch, but Alex's calm persistence kept him rooted and allowed him to finish cleaning his cheek, the older man's eyes not leaving the dark focus of the younger's for a moment, so he did not see Alex's finger touch the end of his nose, wiping some powder there. Alex giggled as the under butler realised that he now had a powdered nose. Wiping his fingers through the now lightly powdered table surface, the under butler pressed his fingers onto the boy's forehead, leaving three lovely defined finger prints there. Alex swept powder off the surface beside him towards Thomas, who shielded himself as he thought up a method of attack, but suddenly the door opened and both men stopped and stood inconspicuously to attention.

"What's going on in here?" Jimmy asked, not sure what to make of walking in on a powder coated under butler and footman, the latter trying not to laugh, the former finding it very easy not to.

"That's no concern of yours. What are you doing here?" Thomas demanded as if Jimmy were the one in the wrong.

"I came for that." Jimmy indicated to the bottle of powder on the table, which now was nearly empty.

"Well take it then."

The blonde, pursing his lips in anger at the under butler's coldness to him, took the bottle from Alex's outstretched hand, giving him a dirty look instead of gratitude, before reluctantly leaving them to whatever mischief he wished he was not being left out of.

"I get the distinct impression that he doesn't like me." Alex said as the door closed.

"Of course he doesn't, he feels threatened by you." Thomas wiped his face clean with a handkerchief taken from his pocket.

"I suppose I am better looking." Alex jested.

"What happened to modesty?"

"I were just enticing myself into everyone's good books." Alex continued to play along with a show of vanity.

"Really?"

"No." Alex admitted, "I think I'm rather plain looking to be honest." Alex touched his forehead with his own handkerchief, where Thomas' fingerprints were, not sure where exactly he needed to focus his wiping skills. Thomas removed Alex's hand from where it was and replaced it with his own, his hand wavered before touching the footman, worried about treading back into dangerous territory, like it was when Jimmy first arrived at Downton. But Alex saw Thomas' hesitance and urged him to continue, "Please."

Thomas gulped and wiped the handkerchief across Alex' forehead, before proceeding down across his cheeks, removing all trace of powder from his face, giving him good opportunity to more closely scrutinise the youth's features, which no one could deny were exquisite, even if Alex could himself, his modesty making him even more attractive. "Plain? You? Have you looked in a mirror lately?"

"Would you ever say you were devilishly good looking, even if you were told all the time?" Thomas wished the powder were still on his face to conceal the possibility that he may be blushing that the footman might be describing him in this way, even if it was hypothetically, "Besides I don't think I'm as attractive as James, he is pretty handsome."

"_Pretty_ handsome?" An understatement? Discomfort at saying another man was more than just 'pretty' handsome?

"Have to use both words to describe him as I can't pick which one's more suitable." Alex's explanation bringing a much welcome laugh from Thomas' lips.

"Yes, I suppose. That's very good."

The pair replaced the bottles they had taken from the shelves, one thing going through their minds, both wondering if the other was thinking the same. Alex was more forthcoming. "Thomas, I want to apologise for this morning."

"Why? What for?" Thomas couldn't, for the life of him, think of why the footman would be sorry, when Thomas felt he should be the one apologising for waking Alex up and putting him in such an awkward situation in the first place.

"For leaving you. I just thought you might be embarrassed if you woke up and I was there."

"Yes… thank you for that." Thomas was in awe at the young man's thoughtfulness, "You won't.. um..you won't-"

"Tell anyone? I wouldn't even know what to say, and don't worry, I won't ask you what it was about, but if you want to you can tell me. Either way I would never tell a soul.. You have my word; _if_ you believe in honour."

"I think _you_ do, and that's enough."

* * *

Jimmy was being remarkably unpleasant to Alex, and it only got worse as Alex and Thomas grew closer over the next couple of days. Thomas seemed much happier, as he was getting more sleep although the nightmares kept returning, but now Alex was there and he would come whenever he heard Thomas' cries through the thin wall which separated them. Jimmy, like everyone else downstairs, had no idea of this. The first footman was now comfortable enough in his wounds to be able to serve upstairs and had returned to performing most of his normal duties except for heavy lifting. Thomas scarcely looked at Jimmy, let alone spoke to him, except to give him instructions or criticism about his work. While Thomas and Alex went out in the evening on walks the under butler should be sharing with _Jimmy,_ sitting in the seat at the table which should have been for saved for _Jimmy_. He could at least be grateful that the under butler and the new man did not chat in each other's rooms until the early hours of the morning. Through their closeness Jimmy grew increasingly lonely and desolate, and found it hard to control his emotions towards the second footman, blaming him and not Thomas for what was happening between them. His abuses only worsened when Alex chose not to respond to them, but instead acted with all politeness and courteousness. No one would say anything to Jimmy about his behaviour, as from the situation on the morning of his arrival, everyone could see that Alex could handle himself just fine, and Jimmy was just being grotesque, possibly out of jealousy that the new footman was better liked and conscientious in his duty. No one gave Jimmy the time of day, as they all were unanimously drawn to Alex; he was a like shiny new toy that needed to be played with, while Jimmy was old news. Not even Alfred would show him favour as he handed the second footman the meat to take upstairs.

"Why are you giving it to me? Doesn't James carry that?" Jimmy almost wished Alex would take it so his angelic façade of selflessness might break.

"You're mad you are, if you get given the meat you take it up, don't pawn it off onto someone else." Alfred told him.

"Thanks Alfred." Jimmy said sarcastically

"Why? I haven't earned the right, surely?" Alex questioningly took the tray offered to him as Alfred needed to free his hands of it.

"In this job you take the right." Alfred informed him.

"I'm afraid I don't have it in me to take anything that's not mine, I'm happy doing as I'm doing. For you I think." Alex raised the tray and offered it to Jimmy.

"Too right." Jimmy nodded in a misplaced sense of victory and moved to take the tray upstairs.

Alex noted that he and Alfred were completely alone in the kitchen, the latter giving a saucepan of sauce a final stir before he would pour it into a jug for Alex to take. The footman used the opportunity to ask Alfred a question he felt he could trust him with, "By the way, is Ivy always so forward?"

"What do you mean?" Alfred's head shot up at the mention of the kitchen maid.

"I was helping her move some things in the larder earlier and she said I was the kindest and most handsome man she's ever met, then she kissed me on the cheek."

Alex stepped back when Alfred dropped the saucepan he was holding onto the surface, producing a large clatter, luckily none of the contents spilled over. "Did she?"

"Yes. Is she always like that?" Alex, not realising he had done anything wrong as he had not yet realised that Alfred was infatuated by the young girl.

"Sometimes." Alfred lied, not wanting the footman to feel encouraged to pursue her.

"Oh, I'll be on me guard then. Thank you." His gratitude in reference to the food being given him to take upstairs which he accordingly removed from the kitchen.

Alfred stared after Alex for a moment before throwing himself down upon the counter, burying his face in his folded arms. Miss O'Brien came in, seeing her nephew in such distress asked him naturally what the matter was.

"I don't think Ivy will ever love me." Alfred said in resignation.

"What makes you say that?"

"She said Alex is the most kind and handsome bloke she's ever met, and she kissed him. He's only been here a couple of days, I've loved her for a year and she won't look twice at me. I don't get why that Alex is so popular, everyone likes him except me and Jimmy. Even Mr Barrow likes him!" Alfred's preference for the second footman vanishing in the last minutes.

"Doesn't say much for him if Mr Barrow likes him. In fact, I might even feel sorry for him."

"Yeah, I don't know if Mr Barrow has unnatural thoughts about him, but they're always together. I'm not sure they're just friends, not with what Mr Barrow is, and Alex doesn't seem to take any interest in girls. Just don't get why everyone likes him. I hate him."

"Well I'll tell you something, I don't like him either."


	17. The Debut

**Thank you so much for any reviews/ follows/ favourites. **

**Apologies for any spelling/ grammar mistakes.**

* * *

Things were going smoothly during the upstairs dinner; as Alex took the sauce around the table (a rather safe job) he still felt insecure enough to keep giving Thomas looks to ask for assurance that he was doing all right. The under butler kept smiling and nodding at the second footman, who did not notice that he was winning looks of approval from all over the room, as the ladies in particular, even the Dowager, remarked on how well decorated the room now seemed because they had such dashing footmen in attendance. Jimmy grinned in welcome of the praise, while Alex gave a timid flicker of a smile, not wishing to accept such unanimous compliments, as his father always taught him that he should be moderate in everything, including in ideas about himself. Thomas saw Jimmy's smile turn into a hateful scowl as the ladies continued talking on about Alex's aesthetics, a scowl matched by a coldness shot like an arrow from Thomas' eyes right into Jimmy's chest which made him fumble the tray of meat as he leaned across Lord Grantham's shoulder, a slither of pork sliding over onto His Lordship's lap.

"Oh, good gracious! I'm terribly sorry Your Lordship. James, give the tray to Alexander." Mr Carson ordered as Jimmy cursed himself internally for allowing Thomas to distract him.

"Sorry Mr Carson, it's me back." Jimmy placed a hand there to reinforce his lie.

"Maybe next time you can say when your back's bad and spare us your making a mess of the dinner."

"Sorry Mr Carson, it won't happen again."

Alex gave Jimmy a sympathetic smile, which was returned with a loathsome look which fortunately, for his sake, Thomas did not see, as Jimmy was sent from the room, judged to be unable to continue serving, for if he could not be trusted with meat then he certainly could not be trusted with the sauce.

"I take it James has not yet fully recovered from his ordeal in London?" His Lordship asked Mr Carson once Jimmy had left, Alex tentatively taking his role in continuing to take the meat around the table.

"It's appears not Your Lordship."

"How are you faring Mr Barrow?"

"Better, thank you M'Lord." Thomas replied, feeling it was his place to step in and handle the sauce, but behind his back he concealed his gloved hands which he tested by clenching and unclenching them, and he did not think he could do it.

"I noticed you now wear two gloves."

Thomas licked his lips to buy time to conjure an answer, "Just a bad scratch M'Lord."

"Mr Barrow, are you suggesting that you cannot act as a footman for the rest of dinner?" Mr Carson widened his eyes in fear of his dinner's reputation.

"I could try Mr Carson but I don't trust meself, not with the sauce." Thomas cracked a feeble smile to pacify Mr Carson, who had to continue the task himself, deciding there had been enough changing for the evening.

"Very well, I guess I will have to do it."

"I'm sorry Mr Carson." Thomas' eyes wandered over to Alex, who must have sensed his friend looking at him as he raised his own eyes and gave Thomas an understanding look.

"The attack on you must have been quite bad. Should I arrange for you both to see Dr Clarkson?" Lord Grantham, unphased by Mr Carson's professional dilemma, asked Thomas.

"No, thank you M'Lord, we'll be all right."

"Lucky you were staying with the girl who used to work for us, Victoria wasn't it?"

"Very lucky indeed, Your Lordship." He had no idea just how much.

"Is she the one who left that note in my bedroom?" Mr Branson entered into the conversation, as he remembered the talk he had heard regarding the incident of the note, the name of the author in any case, whose consequent fate was unknown to him, having assumed that writing a little note was not a sackable offence.

"Yes Mr Branson." Mr Carson replied.

"She was sacked?"

"Of course." The butler begging the question of just what else could have been the consequence of such an unprofessional endeavour. The butler was more careful now with such matters after what happened with Edna and her pursuance of Tom, but Mr Branson was not in agreement.

"What for? There was no harm done. It seems a bit silly to throw the girl out for dropping a piece of paper."

"It's what was _on_ the note that was objectionable, Mr Branson." Trust him to take that view.

"It wasn't meant for me was it?"

"Well no but-"

"There you are then. Why is it wrong?" The Irishman argued.

"Really Tom must we discuss this at dinner?" Lord Grantham intervened, hoping to put the quarrel to rest, the dinner table not being the appropriate place for raised voices between the family and staff.

"I'm sorry Lord Grantham but I don't like thinking this girl lost her livelihood because of me."

"What would you suggest Carson do?"

"Have you found a replacement for her yet?" Mr Branson questioned the butler.

"Not yet Mr Branson but-"

"Then would you please, as a personal favour to me, reinstate her?" Tom, seemed set in gaining the girl back her job that he had to speak so audaciously to Mr Carson, whose fingers quivered to resist curling into fists.

"I'm not sure James would be happy with that, seeing as he was the intended recipient of the note."

"Actually Mr Carson, I don't think James would mind if she came back, in fact I know he wouldn't." Thomas said, determined that Jimmy should not continue to be allowed to ruin everything in his life.

"I see. So be it. Carson would you telephone the girl and offer her her job back?" Lord Grantham gave the casting vote, drawing the matter to a close to the majority's satisfaction.

"Yes M'Lord." Mr Carson glared at Thomas, who did not acknowledge the butler's annoyance at his interjection, in favour of his glee at the prospect of his young friend returning to Downton.

"While we were in London Mr Gregson took me to the opera," Edith chimed in, hoping to bring the conversation back to more neutral territory, "I thought I would find it dreary but it was actually rather wonderful, I told him I would invite you all next time."

"I don't think sitting in a box with you and Gregson is my idea of a day out." Mary rolled her eyes at her sister's suggestion.

"How about you, Tom? Would you appreciate a little opera?"

"Maybe a little. Depend what it's about, and as long as it's in English."

"Not much chance of that I'm afraid." Mary said.

"It was actually about revolution… I think. I think you would have liked it Tom, I wish you had been there." Edith commented, not with absolute sincerity as she did enjoy Mr Gregson's company, but it would have been nice for another member of the family to make an attempt to warm to Mr Gregson since Matthew's passing.

"I haven't been too bad here;" Tom assured her, "Mr Carson has been keeping me occupied with discussion of the world news while you've been away, I've been hardly wanting for conversation."

"Oh then you will have heard about that ghastly business with the Comte de Chagny?" Lord Grantham said, the subject clearly had been playing on his mind for him to raise it so quickly.

"He was murdered wasn't he; by his son?"

"All because he was angry that his father threatened to cut him out of his will, a crime made all the more worse by the fact they haven't caught him yet." His Lordship remarked disdainfully at the actions of the son which could very well be mirrored in the future towards Lord Grantham, it made him realise that despite his title and prestige, he was as at risk as everyone else, worst of all by his own family.

"You wouldn't think one who had been educated at Oxford would be capable of such a thing." The Dowager spoke as a woman who knew a great deal about the matter.

"Murder isn't restricted to the uneducated grandmamma." Mary corrected her.

"He is French by birth I suppose." The Dowager added, Thomas and Alex smiled at each other from across the table, the former not minding in the slightest that he shared the joke with the man he would not have expected, it was this above all, that shocked him.

* * *

After dinner Thomas paced outside of Mr Carson's office, hoping to overhear his telephone conversation with Victoria which he was ordered to have by His Lordship. All he could hear was a one- sided muffled conversation which gave very little away. He therefore waited outside for Mr Carson to emerge, and when he finally did he stumbled back slightly in surprise at seeing the under butler standing in his face so boldly.

"Mr Carson, have you called Victoria?" Thomas demanded to know, yet keeping a patient respect in his tone.

Mr Carson retreated back into his office, leaving the door open for Thomas to follow him in, the latter shutting it behind him. "I just got off the phone with her; no doubt you would be interested in when she will be returning." Mr Carson discerning that Thomas' presence was to await such news.

"Yes Mr Carson." Thomas replied eagerly.

"She said to apologise to you specifically, I don't know why, but she won't be here for a few weeks."

The feeling of an explosion in his chest froze him for a moment before Thomas replied, "A few weeks? Why so long?"

"The woman who works for her parents at the guesthouse is very ill, and might be off work for over a month, so she has agreed to stay on and help her parents."

"How good of her." Thomas forced himself to say. It was good of Victoria to help her parents, but he could not help but feel betrayed by the housemaid who knew what he was going through, and he expected her to want to be there for him. He was used to it by now though, to feeling betrayed and let down, and that thought alone made him feel sick.

"Yes, indeed. I should warn you though Mr Barrow, if she comes back and there is one glimmer of impropriety from her I will not hesitate to send her back to London."

"Understood Mr Carson." Thomas knowing there was little chance of impropriety from her now she did not have to help cover for his and Jimmy's foolish romance anymore.

Thomas stepped back, thinking Mr Carson was about to dismiss him, but he had one more matter to discuss. "Oh, while you're here, Lord Gillingham will be visiting next week, and he will be staying the night." Mr Carson said apprehensively in his emphasis of the last point, and Thomas knew precisely why.

"Does that mean-"

"Yes, that means Mr Green will be gracing us with his presence downstairs." Mr Carson sighed.

Thomas grinned as he recalled Lord Gillingham's last visit to Downton just over a fortnight before, and the chaos Mr Green caused downstairs. He was about Thomas' age; only a couple of years separated them, he was a gambler, light drinker, and a joker who would do anything for a laugh, for a woman, or for money. Yet despite this, he was a professional and was exceedingly loyal to his employer who himself was a kind yet jovial character, the kind of man who treated his employees as members of the family, and Mr Green enjoyed such treatment and was not afraid to show it or take liberties where he felt they were due and could be gotten away with. "He is quite a unique character Mr Carson."

"Don't I know it." The butler rolled his eyes, "I'm going to inform the staff at dinner."

"You don't want to keep it as a surprise then?"

"I think we've had all the surprises we can take, thank you Mr Barrow. That will be all." Thomas left Mr Carson alone to his worries about Mr Green, and the reason for his visit, as no doubt his employer; Lord Gillingham, had his sights on Lady Mary, and Mr Carson did not enjoy being reminded. Thomas himself was not sure what to make of Mr Green's presence, Jimmy and Mr Green got on particularly well during his last visit so it would make a nice change to have a lively spirit around who would distract Jimmy from his ploy of being cruel to Alex. However it was not this reason which made Thomas seek Jimmy out in the servants' hall.

"James." Thomas called for the footman's attention which was immediately received, though Thomas did not sit down beside Jimmy at the table, to show his formal intent and that he did not want to draw out words with him for longer than necessary.

"Thomas."

"Mr Barrow to you." Jimmy's head shot up, his eyes welled slightly, as Thomas was treating him like he treated everyone else now. Even though Jimmy felt a loathing towards his former lover he still hated being spoken to like he was nothing by him. While Thomas had begun to feel indifferently towards Jimmy, as he could not forgive his ill treatment of Alex and could not understand how the footman could be so callous all the time, "I just wanted to tell you that Victoria won't be back for about a month, she's staying with her parents to help out a bit as one of their employees is ill."

"I see. You must be upset." Thomas cocked his head questioningly at this. "You need her. Don't you?" Jimmy carried on with bitter resentment to the under butler and his friendship with the former housemaid, "You need someone you can trust?"

"Not so much nowadays." Both of their minds immediately went to Alex.

"Oh… I guess you don't need a lot of things that you used to."

"That's right. I don't."

"Everything all right?" Alex announced himself as he came in, knowing that he should be wary of any conversation between Thomas and Jimmy, and he felt protective of the under butler, knowing that he was vulnerable, and Jimmy, the mood he was in lately, would not help matters. The look on the latter's face, one of hatred and anger, making Alex worry all the more.

"Why don't you go and suck on an egg?" Jimmy rudely suggested.

"James!" Thomas bellowed.

Alex stayed Thomas' fury by placing his hand lightly on Thomas' which he went to raise in anger. "It's all right Thomas."

"No it isn't, he shouldn't talk to you like that."

"And _he_ should be calling you Mr Barrow." Jimmy pointed out, his jealousy seeping through at Alex being the only one with the privilege of calling the under butler by his name, "Or are you playing favourites?"

"You make it very easy for me to." Thomas said through gritted teeth.

"Stop, both of you." Alex mediated.

"Stop acting so bloody up yourself all the time." Jimmy shrieked, "What is it you want exactly '_Alexandre_'?"

"I wanted to talk to Thomas about Victoria." Alex replied, coolly letting Jimmy's insults pass over him.

"You haven't told him about Victoria? Ha! He can't think much of you then, she's his best friend, apparently his 'secret' best friend." Jimmy using anything he could to feel some superiority to the second footman in anything other than station.

"Oh right, I thought she might have been involved with one of you, what I gathered from the upstairs conversation anyway." Alex continued to admirably ignore the hostility in Jimmy's speech, while his resilience made Jimmy all the more aggressive.

"Why don't you mind your own business?"

"Shut up James." Thomas growled, "No, Victoria is my closest friend but were fired for being indiscrete about a crush she had on James. It were harmless, but Mr Branson found a note and so she were sacked."

"That's a bit harsh, and you seem pleased about it, so I'm glad she's coming back." Alex smiled, until Jimmy spoke again.

"Don't be, once she returns you'll be old news. Thomas will forget all about you."

"Ignore him Alex." Thomas gestured for the auburn footman to go outside so they may talk in private, "You are obnoxious." He hissed in Jimmy's face as the latter also rose to leave.

"I'd rather be obnoxious than cruel." Jimmy retorted, Thomas not fully comprehending what the blonde meant, but it didn't matter, it was no excuse for how he was behaving now, and he didn't want to exchange further words with the repugnant footman. He went outside to meet Alex, who was leaning up against the wall and staring into the awakening night, turning to the under butler as he heard Thomas' footsteps come towards him.

"That was… tense, to say the least." Alex said regarding the mysterious confrontation they had with Jimmy.

"Ignore him." Thomas advised.

"I intend to." The youth knowing there was little more he could do than that without sinking to Jimmy's level, "You're right, he is immature, I don't have time to mind him. Fancy a walk?"

"No, not tonight. If you don't mind I need to sleep." Thomas said honestly, as he had not slept properly in so long, and was hoping that tonight might be the night when he would get a decent night, for he was tired enough.

"I might go for a walk before I hit the sack. If you need anything in the night-"

"Thanks." Thomas smiled appreciatively at the younger man.

"Night Thomas." Alex bid him as he gave his older friend a prolonged touch on the shoulder as he passed inside to fetch his coat.

"Night Alex." Thomas, hearing the footman's steps fade behind him, took one step out into the open and gazed up at the stars to question them all. He understood nothing; how could things have changed so much in such little time? Nothing made sense to him, and he had no idea what he should do now.


	18. Old Tricks

**There is one thing I love about the feedback I have so far received; that you all think I'm so cruel a writer that Alex absolutely must be evil. I'm not that bad am I that there certainly can be nothing good for Thomas in any of my stories? :P**

**Thank you so much for any reviews/ follows/ favourites, they really spur me on to write, especially when I have moments where I lose my motivation. I hope you are enjoying it, even though it is a bit miserable :P**

**Apologies for any spelling/ grammar mistakes**

* * *

When Alex returned from his evening walk he was met by Miss O'Brien, who was indulging in a cigarette before retiring, as Her Ladyship had only just dispensed with her services for the night. If the footman did not know any better he would have thought that she was waiting for him, as it was a harshly cold night and only a great purpose would have enticed anyone out into its grasp.

"Mr Barrow seems to have taken to you." The ladies' maid said, the gravel crunching beneath her shoes as she took a warning step towards the youth.

"I'm glad, he's a lovely person." Alex replied with polite courtesy.

"Well keep doing whatever it is you're doing, it's not often our Mr Barrow takes a shine to someone."

"But he seems so kind." The footman retracted his dismissiveness, turning to the ladies' maid and approached her with intent to find out what she meant. Thomas had talked about himself to the young man, but not about his relationships with others, not that he wasn't curious, but he sensed that Thomas was sensitive about it and so a little enlightenment from the ladies' maid was welcome to find out more about his mysterious yet troubled friend.

"He has trust issues you see does Mr Barrow; finds it hard being close to someone. The best thing you can do is be open with him; a little familiarity wouldn't go amiss."

"Really?" Though Alex knew Thomas was open to friendly contact he did not expect others to encourage it, in favour of misinterpreting his behaviour as a romantic endeavour.

"Oh yes, then he'll keep James off your back."

"I don't know why he hates me so much." At least it was obvious that Jimmy was maltreating him and it wasn't just in his imagination, Thomas was never able to give him an answer to this either, Alex was starting to feel benefited that Miss O'Brien decided to speak to him about it.

"He probably feels threatened by you because you're good at your job and you're a kinder person than he is, that and he used to be close to Mr Barrow before you came along."

"Are you saying I've come between them in some way? Because I wouldn't want that." It would certainly explain Jimmy's behaviour towards Thomas as well.

"No, you're not, there are other reasons there, but I think he finds it hard to see his former friend has replaced him so quickly, maybe fears the same for his position as first footman. But Mr Barrow is a professional and doesn't like arguments between his staff, if you keep in with him he'll keep James away from you."

"I can handle James thank you Miss O'Brien." Alex reassured the ladies' maid, not having given anyone any reason to think otherwise. He also didn't like the idea of Thomas fighting his battles for him, and would never expect it, not when he was equipped to handle them himself.

"Yes, I suppose you can, but all I'm saying is that Mr Barrow is very fragile, under that hard exterior, and it's important that you try and connect to it as he seems to have chosen you."

"All the more reason why he shouldn't be taking any punches for me." Alex put as bluntly as he could, demonstrating his skill at debate with Miss O'Brien, who was not used to having her wit matched, especially not by someone so young, who didn't seem as malleable as her usual victims. "Goodnight Miss O'Brien." The youth concluded their strange conversation, which would linger in his mind.

"Goodnight." The ladies' maid said, wondering if maybe her target would not be as easy to manoeuvre as her previous one.

* * *

As Alex walked inside, thinking about what Miss O'Brien had said, and why, he was called into the servants' hall by Ivy, who was in there with a couple of maids, who immediately huddled around Alex, encouraging him to arm wrestle Alfred and the hankering hall boys who all wanted to impress the maids, too beguiled to see they only want to watch the exertions of the athletic footman. Alex clearly was against it, not in the mood after his words with the ladies' maid. However when Jimmy entered upon the scene, with a cup of tea which he would drink before retiring, he saw an opportunity once and for all to assert his dominance over Alex in the eyes of the staff, and he took it.

"Arm wrestling are we? Come on then. I'll take you on." He sat astride a chair, placing his elbow definitively upon the table, ready to receive Alex's hand in his. Alex looked around for a way out, but the maids were clamouring, and even the hall boys and Alfred were curious, so he eventually put his hand in Jimmy's, the first footman squeezing hard, expelling his anger at the second footman who sat ready and focussed until they heard the chorus 'ready, set, go'. The start was the toughest part as they deadlocked, but once Alex got the feel of Jimmy's strength he was able to overpower him within a few paltry seconds. Jimmy was not sure whether he was livid or embarrassed, but he could not understand what had just happened. Did he really just lose? That easily? The maids cheered and blushed at Alex's finesse, who hung his head modestly, "Alex you're so strong, I bet you could beat Jimmy's right hand with your left hand." Ivy said, clearly this was her long awaited revenge for Jimmy's ill behaviour towards her when they she was his girl some time ago, and he led her on, only to have ditched her.

"Are you joking? I could put his left down in me sleep!" Jimmy manoeuvred himself around the table and readily positioned himself for round two, but once more the younger footman deferred.

"I'm not sure you want to do that."

How arrogant was this guy? "Are you sure it's not that _you _don't want to do it?" Alex rolled his eyes and in obligation placed his left elbow on the table. The starting words were spoken, and fantastically, Jimmy lost in exactly the same way. Why? How? What was this guy on? No one could understand, not even the maids. Alfred was stunned, and saved Jimmy the humiliation of asking Alex how he managed to do it. Was Jimmy just incredibly weak? "I'm ambidextrous." Alex explained, and gave Jimmy an apologetic look, filled with authentic regret that he had beaten him so soundly. "Don't take it badly Jimmy, we all have our strengths, mine is just literally physical. That's what happens when you have a Military General for a father." He quipped. "I'm sure there are many things you're better at than I am."

"What are you doing?"

"Just being friendly, Jimmy. I don't want you to feel bad." Alex said, being his typical self, trying to make the best of every situation. A quality that made Jimmy's blood boil.

"Well I don't want your friendship or your pity. I thought I made that clear by now." Jimmy snarled, which forced all the others to back away from the pair in belief that something might start between them that they would not want to get in the middle of.

"You have to help me out here James and tell me what it is you _do_ want so we can sort this out." Alex calmly replied.

"There's nothing to sort out, unless you want to take a flying-"

"Oi! What's going on?" A half- dressed Mr Barrow made an unexpected entry, since he had the same idea as Jimmy and came down to the kitchen in need of something to aid his sleep, which had trouble coming to him.

"Nothing. Unless James wants to finish his sentence." Alex challenged the blonde footman who curled his hand into a fist tightly, the movement not missed by Alex who straightened up slightly to be ready in case Jimmy should do something foolish, but nothing came.

"All right all of you, show's over. Up to bed. You too James." Mr Barrow declared.

"Night James." Alex bid him undeservedly.

"Drake." Jimmy turned his lip up as he crassly used his colleague's surname by means of a subtle insult, which Alex felt with all its power, as he left the room with the others.

"That's the one downside to having a Christian name for a surname. Whenever people wanted to pick on me or tell me off, my mother included, they would call me Drake. Then when anyone ever found out about it they would all call me Drake whether they were telling me off or not."

"What's wrong with that? It's a strong name is Drake, it suits you." Thomas sat beside Alex in the now vacant servants' hall.

"Not the same when it's your own name though is it, and it's used so predictably and tediously?"

"Tell me then, Drake, what were really going on?" Thomas asked him.

The footman sighed at his tolerance towards Thomas at letting him call him Drake. "I suppose you'll find out anyway, and I don't want you to hear some exaggerated version of it. I beat him at an arm wrestle. Twice, and with me left hand." He recounted the story with some hesitation to show his regret at how much he had damaged Jimmy's pride.

"My my, that's impressive. Not sure how you can exaggerate that."

"I'm ambidextrous, and everyone here knows I keep in shape. Yet I fear he's taken it rather badly... I hear you used to be close to him." Alex's thoughts turned back to his brief encounter with Miss O'Brien.

"'Used to' being the operative words."

"May I ask what happened?" Alex asked without forcing obligation on Thomas, but the latter felt none, because O'Brien was right of course; Alex had been chosen, without Thomas even realising it.

"Just before you arrived James and I were in London visiting Victoria. I insisted that we go to a club, don't get much chance to around here… when we came out we were mugged and beaten pretty badly. It seems that James blames me for the whole incident."

"Yes, Alfred told me about that."

"Alfred?" Thomas looked questioningly at the footman.

"Yes. But he said… he said- I mean I didn't want to ask you in case he was wrong because I don't believe you would- and I wanted to hear it from you-"

"What?"

Alex swallowed at what he believed was slander against the under butler who had been so good to him since his arrival, "Apparently you were careless with your money, and provoked those men into attacking you."

"Alfred said that?"

"Yes."

"Who told _him_?" Miss O'Brien of course being the prime suspect, especially after what she said the day they came back from London about him flashing his money around. Thomas did not believe she was being literal, but now he had cause to believe differently.

"James." No matter how vile Jimmy was being, it was still a shock, and it still hurt to hear that Thomas' former lover was saying such things about him, that he was lying about him in this way, "But I don't know, I think James is lying, he seemed very guilty. Will you be offended if I ask if it's true?"

Thomas was the opposite of offended, that this wonderful young man didn't think him capable of endangering himself and Jimmy brought elation to his heart, it made it all the more difficult that he had to continue lying to Alex about what happened to conceal from him the true nature of his and Jimmy's past relationship and the involvement of the Duke. "No. I can't remember, I were a bit drunk so who knows? Maybe I did."

"I don't think he should be punishing you like this though. It's not fair." Alex shook his head, not being able to comprehend how James could behave the way he did so blatantly, and get away with it.

"He thinks it is. You see James can be a decent person, but he's childish, he's not mature like us."

"He has no right to be unkind to you over something you had no control over. It could happen to anyone, it's not your fault."

"He wants to blame someone, he blames me." Thomas shrugged, with a weary and honest sigh. "I just feel bad because you're bearing the brunt of it."

"Don't be." Alex put his hand on Thomas' shoulder, the latter cast his eyes nervously upon those long strong fingers which gave him a squeeze, lighter than what one may have expected from such a robust figure. "As you said, he's immature."

"I think he finds it hard that I'm happy so soon after what happened, while he's still suffering."

"You're suffering too though aren't you? Maybe I should talk to him."

"That will probably make things worse. Just leave him."

"Maybe in time he'll come around, grow up a bit?"

"The thing is; I'm not sure I want him to." Alex smiled supportively and put his other hand on Thomas' in comfort; Thomas looked into Alex's deep docile eyes and clasped his hand in reciprocation.

* * *

_"No, please, please. Stop! Don't hurt him, hurt me, kill me."_

_"Remember Thomas; you made me do this."_

_"NOOOOO!"_

"Michael!"

Those familiar hands gripped him. Thomas struggled against them, but his captor was prepared for it and locked him in a firm embrace. Ignoring the sweat on his brow, Alex kept his hand across Thomas' forehead, the footman whispering into his deaf ear.

"It's all right Thomas, it's all right. You're safe, he's not going to hurt you. Tell me what happened."


	19. Not Forgiven, Not Forgotten

**Thank you very much in advance for any reviews/ follows/ favourites, and for taking the time to read this.**

**Apologies for any spelling/ grammar mistakes**

* * *

Jimmy was decidedly jealous. He hated this. Hated the closeness he was forced to witness between Alex and Thomas, how pushed out he was, like he was nothing to Thomas now. He was actually grateful for Alfred. The only person in the world who seemed to care he existed. Maybe he deserved it, after what he said to Thomas, and his behaviour since, but he couldn't stop himself, the second footman brought it out of him. The perfect Alexandre. So perfect it was annoying. Alex may be mature and may make Thomas feel safe, but he also eradicated Jimmy from Thomas' mind. Jimmy would feel better just knowing that Thomas cared, that he could comprehend that every morning when Jimmy dressed he had to look at those scars on his torso which made him weep, that he didn't feel safe himself, that he needed someone to put their arms around him and tell him it was all okay. He wanted Thomas, he wanted to be with him, he wanted to feel the way he did back in the club; safe, cared for, happy. Thomas had made him realise who he was, what he was, and now he just took it away, what could he do now? Jimmy saw it clearly now, it would not go away; he liked men, he was attracted to men, but what did it matter now? Now he was alone. At least before he could pretend to like women, he was fine, he could love and feel loved, but he was tagged now with Thomas' label. His name was sewn into his character. He hated him. He hated that Thomas had dragged him into his world and left him there alone and unknowing, stranded in a vast desert where he could not speak, for no one would hear him.

"Evening Jimmy, how's your pride been today?" Alfred greeted his inconsistent friend as he came in the kitchen looking for a good natter.

"Trodden on, that git has been going around telling everyone that he beat me in that arm wrestle last night." Jimmy cursed the footman, who he believed had caused the hall boys and maids to think he was a weakling and made him the object of their taunts all day.

"Actually, it was me." Ivy submitted herself for a scolding from the blonde footman.

"You?!" Jimmy exclaimed with as much surprise as anger.

"Yes." She kept her head held high to assert her claim upon the moral high ground.

"A woman's wrath." Jimmy muttered.

Ivy laughed at Jimmy's perception. "Don't get me wrong, I feel bad about what happened to you in London and all, it were terrible, but I thought it were time you stopped being rotten to everyone."

"He isn't rotten to _me_." Alfred stood in defence of his new friend.

"You're the only one." Ivy groaned, "You should be nice to Alex, he's nice to you and hasn't said a word about last night. In fact if anyone asks him about it he changes the subject. So be grateful," She said to Jimmy before going into the larder.

"God I hate him." Jimmy uttered, leaning upon the kitchen counter.

"Me too. She won't stop going on about him. Alex this, Alex that. Sure he's handsome and charming, like you when you arrived but better-"

"What?" Jimmy squeaked in protest.

"-but he gets right under me skin. The fact he's friendly with Mr Barrow says it all to me."

"What do you mean by that?" Jimmy rolled his shoulder back in dis-ease.

"Maybe he's a queer." Alfred said in a cautiously hushed voice.

"Who? Alex?" Jimmy sneered at the suggestion.

"Yeah," Alfred moved around the counter and formed a miniature huddle with Jimmy, so they could speak with discretion, "That maid; Megan, asked him if he wanted to go out with her to the pictures and he said he weren't interested."

"Well, Megan's not-"

"When she asked him why, he said that he's not interested in finding a girl right now."

Jimmy did not want to believe Alex was what Alfred said, as it would mean the potential for Thomas to be seduced by Alex, who was the opposite of shy when it came to his feelings and physical contact. "Maybe he's career minded."

"Or he's a queer."

"Just because he's friends with one doesn't mean he _is_ one. I was friends with Mr Barrow not too long ago." Fortunately Alfred did not know about Jimmy's sexuality or he would know that what Jimmy said only disproved his own point. Even if not, Thomas managed to make Jimmy change his ways, his preferences, maybe he could do the same with Alex. Or perhaps Jimmy gave Thomas' irresistibility too much credit.

"True. But your relationship with him were innocent, and I can't believe that it's all innocent with them. You've seen them together, the only time I've seen Mr Barrow behave like that were with you when you first arrived, and we both know what happened there, and Alex is the same way with him. Jimmy? You all right?"

He wasn't. He was terrified, but he could never confess such a feeling to Alfred. "Yes. I'm fine. Anyway I best head off to bed. Another early morning tomorrow. Good night Alfred."

* * *

Thomas had not forgotten Jimmy. It may have appeared to be the case but it was not so. Thomas thought of Jimmy constantly. It hurt him to be around him, not just because of how he reminded him of what happened, but because there was still some feeling there; of course there was. It was why he told Alex he was not sure if he wanted Jimmy to grow up; because if he did Thomas knew that Jimmy would then be everything he needed and wanted him to be, and he wasn't prepared to lured back into what would certainly be a trap just waiting to stamp out his happiness, in the same way it had been time and again when he tried to get close and salvage some happiness with the footman.

Thomas shared the first footman's sentiment of hate. He hated being near him, seeing him behave the way he did towards Alex, knowing that the blonde was suffering, but not being able to comfort him. Thomas knew that it was possible Jimmy needed him, that he wanted Thomas to take care of him and protect him, but as Thomas told him before, he couldn't do it. He wasn't strong enough to. That old mentality which he had once shed, grew back all the more stronger, that selfishness and need to survive at any cost, to protect himself. He couldn't protect Jimmy when he felt so weak all the time, and it made it harder for him to want to when he saw everyday just how badly Jimmy was treating Alex, not to mention the way he was with other people. His attitude left much to be desired. Mr Carson had even pulled Thomas into the office to discuss the situation with him, whether they should demote Jimmy to second footman, until his attitude improves. Thomas, feeling a pang of immense guilt right there, like the whole affair _was_ his fault, told Mr Carson that Jimmy should keep his position and he was just going through a phase because of what happened to him. He surprised himself, but it made him see that he did still care, that he hadn't moved on, but he could never let Jimmy know as it would expose him to the footman's will as he had been once before, when he came to his room in the night and kissed him in his sleep, to Thomas' ruin.

It was a similar hate which coursed through his relationship with Alex. Thomas hated how exposed to Alex he was, he was completely open to him, his body just waiting for the auburn footman's fatal infliction; whether it be by words or fists or cold steel, though it did not come. From the first time Alex had walked in on one of Thomas' nightmares the under butler had been waiting, but it had not come. Alex hardly mentioned the incident, except to make sure that Thomas was all right. The under butler could see that the footman was suffering from his shortened periods of sleep and he felt guilty about it as he noted the footman appearing less chirpy and energetic than usual. At dinner he was quiet and leaned his head on his hand when Mr Carson was not looking to tell him to remove his elbow from the table. Thomas wanted to let the second footman know his sacrifice was not in vain and that the former was not ignoring the latter's troubles on purpose to avoid his own, so they took an evening walk together, which Alex seemed to accompany Thomas on through obligation rather than want as he craved the feel of a pillow beneath his head.

"I'm sorry about last night." Thomas said to Alex, "Thank you for being there though. Don't know what I would have done otherwise. How do you know how to do that? To calm me down?" Thomas said, looking across to the footman who kept his head down, not acknowledging that he had done anything particularly exceptional.

"I used to have nightmares when me dad died. Used to dream of him on the battlefield. Me mum used to talk me through it the way I do with you."

Thomas could tell the youth was remembering those nightmares now, he looked so weary with his drooping eyes. "Well, thank you. It's really made a difference. Since you've been here I've nearly managed a full night's sleep since-" Thomas stopped himself from finishing what would have been a very awkward sentence for him, though he noticed Alex's eyes lifting towards him at the prospect of hearing it. "Anyway, don't know what I'd have done otherwise."

"Woken some other poor sod probably. So you ready to tell me? It's fine if you're not, I want to help you if I can." Alex gave Thomas a small smile to show that he was not expecting anything from the under butler, but it was the innocence and the tiredness in his eyes which moved Thomas to want to say more.

"I'm not sure you can help, but I feel I owe you an explanation seeing as you will likely be getting more three hour nights. Unless you move rooms."

"I like my room." Alex replied suggestively.

Thomas took a breath as he thought just exactly what he should say to Alex, a tale he had not told a soul. He didn't want to lie in his account, not to Alex who had been so good to him, but he would feel comfortable avoiding the truth, and so it went like this; "Nearly six weeks ago we had a guest at the house, a Duke. He seemed kind enough. Then, impressed by my professionalism, he offered me a job in his household, as a butler, and blindly I took it. But then I saw that I didn't really want to leave and changed me mind. He uh- he didn't like it." The memory forced Thomas to place a cigarette to his lips and light the end.

"Did he hurt you in some way?"

"You could say that." Thomas took his cigarette in the fingers of one hand, while the other went into his pocket to conceal the fact it was shaking, as images flashed through his mind of all the Duke had forced him to endure over the past weeks.

"He sounds like a complete nut job. How could he do that?" What would the young man think of the Duke if he heard the complete version of events rather than this censored one?

"Because I tried to leave him. Because I displeased him." Thomas' voice trembled as he spat the Duke's very words.

"That's no justification. Did you call the police?"

"It were my word against a Duke. Who would believe me?"

"I do. What happened?"

"He couldn't force me to go with him, so he left, but before he went he said I hadn't heard the last of him."

"Do you think he'll come back? Is that why you have nightmares?" Alex deduced. After what he had heard Thomas speak in the night when he came to help him, he knew that Thomas was being attacked in some way with someone else, if the Duke only hurt Thomas the last time then what Thomas dreamt of must be another instance, of his tormentor's return.

"No. I _know_ he will come back. He's there, every time I close my eyes. I'm scared to sleep, just as I'm scared to wake because then I remember what he did." Thomas spoke quickly, without thought, before he had time to realise what he was saying, before he could regret it.

"You know he can't hurt you here, right? You're safe." Alex touched the back of Thomas' upper arm to assure him of his presence and safety. The assurance was not felt by the older man who did not stop a skilful tear escape his eye, which knew well enough to trickle down the cheek which faced away from Alex.

"Me and James weren't mugged in London." Thomas brought his cigarette to his lips, that calming flavour fogged all his inhibitions and let him hover in the moment carefree.

"What? What happened?"

"James and I weren't mugged in London. It were him. The Duke."

Alex remembered a different story told to him by the under butler but the day before, but he was not pedantic enough to focus on that fact, Alex was sensible and reasonable enough to understand why he was lied to. "He attacked you? My god. Surely the police-"

"We couldn't prove anything."

"What did he do to you?" Alex asked hesitantly; but trusting that Thomas was the kind of man that if he didn't want to tell or show him he would say so.

"More than I could show you." Thomas said honestly, for most of the damage was in his mind, and Alex seemed to understand that with a nod of his head, followed by contradictory shake when he thought of the Duke's other victim.

"And James had the audacity to say that you provoked some men into mugging you?"

"He had to say that so no one would know what really happened."

"But he blames you for his injuries though, because of your association with the Duke?"

"Yes." Thomas sighed, closing his eyes to hear Jimmy's voice more clearly in his mind 'If you had just kept it in your pants!'

"I like him less and less as time goes on. I'm sorry." Alex apologised for detracting from Thomas' suffering to his own dislike of the blonde footman, "I know he was hurt too, and it's terrible, unjustified, undeserved, just plain wrong, but so is his blaming you for it. You should talk to someone."

"I'm talking to _you_."

"You know what I mean." Alex cocked his head to one side in an impatience not cooperating with Thomas' avoidance of the subject.

Thomas was growing tired of having to explain to people that he couldn't get help, no matter how much he knew he needed it. It made no difference how much he knew this or how much he needed help when couldn't take that step to get it. "I can't."

"Why not?"

"I'm ashamed."

"You have nothing to be ashamed of." Alex implored him.

"And yet I am." Thomas put simply, it was a fact of his nature that could not be changed just by Alex or anyone else saying that he shouldn't feel that way. "I just can't do it. Not yet."

Alex accepted what Thomas was saying to him, he couldn't force Thomas to get help if he wasn't ready for it, and so thought maybe he should try and tackle the effects rather than the cause of what he was going through, "Would it help you sleep if you weren't alone?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I don't know, but I have two beds in my room, lord knows why, you can have one for a few nights if you want, or however long you need."

This was an unusual request for anyone, and even though the footman did not know of Thomas' sexuality it did not make it any less so, it seemed to Thomas impossible that someone, a young man, could trust him so much that he would share a room with him, so Thomas sought to clarify, "You want me to sleep in your room... with you?"

"Yes. If it will help you, and we all get a decent night's sleep." Alex smiled sweetly.

"I shouldn't."

"But you wouldn't mind?" Alex raised his eyebrows at the caving under butler, who was intrigued by the proposition, knowing that the footman might actually have a valid point worth following through with, "Just tonight. If there's no change you can go back to your room. Can it be any worse than it is now? Is it even worth a try?"

"You'd do that for me?" Thomas was blown away, to say the least, by the kindness of the people in his life as of late, from Victoria, to Mrs Hughes, and now Alex. He had no idea what he had done to deserve it, but he had never felt so watched over, it was different, it was nice.

"You've been good to me since I got here, a poor return if I can't do this for you when you need it. Come on. It may even be fun, and I don't snore." It was a bonus thrown in to the bargain which was too much for Thomas to refuse, but beneath it all he could look at the youth and see his innocence, his goodness, and it just made him hate himself all the more in comparison to him.

"You have an unusual quality of making people feel bad about themselves; you know that right?" Thomas took a final drag of his cigarette before dropping it to his feet and crushing it beneath the toe of his shoe.

"I don't do I? I shouldn't want anyone to feel badly about themselves, especially not on _my_ account." Alex hoped he might be able to remedy this immediately should it be the case.

"Yes, because you're so perfect. None of us stand a chance when stood next to you. We feel unworthy of you, of your good deeds."

"Strange I always felt it was the other way around. I don't know whether to be flattered or hurt." Thomas could not tell him. He didn't even know why he mentioned it in the first place, it just fell from his lips, but the distressed look on the footman's face made him regret it. "Would you prefer it if I was horrible?"

"I'd prefer it if I knew more about you, that I knew you were a human and not some kind of angel here to judge us all." Alex forced himself to laugh at the exaggerated comparison Thomas made, and thought of what he could say about himself that would demonstrate his character flaws to the waiting Thomas.

"I'm a rotten singer," Alex announced. Thomas broke into a chuckle, not expecting this of all things as an answer. "I can't dance either, I'm terrible… I'm very clumsy, and I'm determined, to the extent where I just can't give up, no matter what… Sometimes I think I know better than other people and it doesn't always work out. I can be quite forward, in case you didn't notice, which, again, doesn't always work out so well. Apparently I also have this annoying habit of making people feel bad about themselves."

Thomas scratched his head in guilt at having told Alex this last point himself, though he was pleased in a way that now he felt more equal to his friend, that he was more deserving of his friendship. "I'm sorry about that. I don't know why I said anything. I guess I'm not used to genuinely good people befriending me."

"I know; you're untrusting. I understand that."

"Do you still want me to sleep in your room?"

"Of course. If you still want to after finding out what a terrible singer I am."

"Unless you sing in your sleep I think I'll live."

The pair touched each other on the shoulder, one in gratitude, the other in comfort and the warm pleasure of a good deed, but Alex was not through with the under butler yet and his efforts to get him into a routine for sleeping; "Oh, and you're coming for a run with me in the morning."

"I'm what now?"


	20. Replaced?

**Thank you very much for reading.**

**Apologies for any spelling/ grammar mistakes.**

* * *

"All right there old timer?" Alex joked, padding alongside Thomas, who was struggling to keep up with the younger man, who had woken him up at the crack of dawn and dragged him out of bed and into the freezing cold of the mid November morning which soon dissipated as the pair started running across the fields, Alex taking Thomas on his usual path which in consideration for the under butler he cut considerably short as they moved slower than he would have by himself and so covered less distance in the same time.

"Hey, leave me alone, I'm not used to this." Thomas panted, "What about you in your long sleeves? Cold getting to you is it?"

Alex looked at his arms defensively before looking to Thomas with a weak smile, "The cold isn't my natural element, like it is for you."

Thomas laughed, hardly noticing Alex securing the ends of his sleeves in his palms, "God I need a fag."

"Not yet, when we get back to the house." Alex teased.

"But it's a whole…. That far away." Thomas threw up his arm towards the Abbey which sat a few hundred metres away, the under butler beckoning it to hover towards them.

"Come on Thomas, your hair does that wispy thing when you run." Alex winked, playing to a vanity that was rarely revealed by Thomas, but the auburn footman guessed it about him as he knew how long the under butler took to get ready and how conscious he was about going out in his shorts, when he would unveil his legs to the world, for what seemed to be the first time.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"I suppose I do like it when me hair does that." Thomas fondled the hair Alex was referring to, and smiled bashfully as he could feel its wispiness.

"Not just you, and it's a nice change seeing you in shorts. Didn't think you'd own any."

"What are you trying to say exactly?" Thomas stopped moving in a show of offence.

"Well, you're not the most athletic man in the world." Alex eyed the dignified under butler, who gave the impression of never having run anywhere in his life.

"Just because you're all beefed up, _Drake,_ doesn't mean I have to be." Thomas started walking again, this time Alex slowed at the use of his surname and gave Thomas a push in the side.

"Stop calling me Drake!"

Before Thomas could retaliate the footman ran off, Thomas chasing after him, friendly threats playing on his lips. Alex was fast, faster than Thomas could comprehend, and dodged his way around the laughing under butler who caught Alex on the shirt, and he latched on, bringing them both down into the cold hard ground. Thomas had Alex pinned underneath him in victory. Heavy breaths quickly slowed as Thomas beheld the young virile man looking up at him with those deep dark eyes, like pools which Thomas could immerse himself in and soak up all the tranquillity and goodness in them. The younger man was so trusting of him, so restful and at peace, which was exactly how Thomas felt. The under butler drew himself up and spared the footman a hand to raise himself with. The men exchanged a silent look of mixed feeling and walked inside.

* * *

Thomas had moved into Alex's room the night before. He kept all his things in his own room and changed there, but snuck into Alex's room once assured everyone had gone to bed. It was nice being in a different room, it was comforting, even more so not being alone, though Thomas was self- conscious about showing himself in the night to Alex, in the form of his reactions to the nightmares, even though he had done it before it was almost as if he was welcoming it by sleeping with Alex. His fears were allayed as the pair stayed up and had a calming talk about numerous things; most importantly about upstairs and downstairs life; Thomas delighting in giving Alex a first hand account of the juiciest bits of gossip surrounding their employers and colleagues over the past eight years, and Alex delighted in hearing it, clutching a pillow to his chest as they sat crossed legged on their beds facing each other, like a little boy hearing a scary story from his older brother. Thomas told him everything from Bates being arrested to Mr Crawley's death, so now Alex was well informed except with anything involving Thomas' escapades with other men.

They grew tired, Thomas was nervous about going to sleep, not that he would show it. Alex was fraught with concern, not that he would show it either. Without exchanging a word, except for the conventional 'goodnight', they rested their heads on their pillows. Thomas waited until he knew that Alex had fallen asleep, he did not have to wait long as Alex seemed to be an easy sleeper, he said that it was because of the running and that's why he roped Thomas into coming with him. Thomas was willing to try anything, and running was more healthy than what he decided to resort to now, as he withdrew the bottle of whisky he smuggled into the room and slavishly drank a few unhealthy sips. It would not help, but he believed it, and that, for Thomas, was enough. At three o'clock the next morning, as if on cue, Thomas awoke in his own sweat once more, his throat sore from his screams; the footman's arms wrapped around him to stop him from falling into oblivion once more.

* * *

There were two very noticeable absences at breakfast, absences which made Jimmy's stomach stir impassively.

"Where are they? It's not like Mr Barrow to be late for breakfast, and where's Alexander?" Mrs Hughes said.

"We'll have to start without them. Are you sure there's no sign of them in their rooms?" Mr Carson asked around the table.

"No, we've checked everywhere."

"Can't have checked everywhere or you would have found them." Miss O'Brien pointed out. "They're probably up to some mischief. They'll come down when they're ready." What kind of mischief; Jimmy above all wanted to know. "That Alexander is very strange."

"What do you mean?" Jimmy asked.

"He's not the usual sort we have around here. So open with himself, just like Mr Barrow, they're so similar."

"What exactly are you implying Miss O'Brien?" Mr Carson warily intervened.

"Nothing at all Mr Carson, just an observation." An observation which had Jimmy staring down at his plate as if there were a scene playing out on its shiny surface; images of Alex and Thomas together, holding each other, kissing each other, in ways Jimmy had never experienced with him and wanted so badly still, even now.

Everyone's heads turned towards the back door as it opened, and into the room came the missing servants. The women at the table collapsed inside at the image before them, Ivy having to clutch her pot of porridge even more tightly to keep it falling to the floor. Even Jimmy was scared of his thoughts, particularly after what he imagined on his plate, as he caught sight of the out of breath pair, who were wet from sweat, breathing a silvery cold air from their mouths, yet what grasped everyone's attention was their visibly hardened nipples through their polo shirts, their dazzling smiles, and rebelliously dishevelled hair.

"Morning everyone." The arrivals said cheerily.

"Blimey, now that I would never have expected." Miss O'Brien looked about for matching expressions about the table, which were not lacking.

"Mr Barrow? You've been running?" Anna stated in shock.

"Why is everyone so confused by the fact I've been running?"

"Don't think I've ever seen you in shorts either." Miss O'Brien, who would have been the most likely person to have had this privilege, remarked.

"Alexander, is this your doing?" Mr Bates asked the footman, but Thomas gave the response as he ruffled Alex's hair, coating his glove in cold sweat.

"Of course it's his doing. You all know how convincing Alex can be."

"You'll have to be careful Mr Barrow, or he'll have you doing all sorts, seeing as you're so eager to please young Alexander." Miss O'Brien made her subtle insinuation.

"I think running might be good for me." Thomas replied with equal subtlety.

"I didn't take you for a body builder."

"He's in a good shape, just needs a bit of fine tuning." Alex took the tone of discussion back to its former innocence.

"He's not a piano!"

"The body is an instrument." Alex philosophically rendered.

"All right Plato." O'Brien mocked the youth's gravitas.

"Closer to Aristotle actually, but never mind. Anyway we better get ready. Excuse us."

"You have ten minutes or you won't get any breakfast." Mr Carson warned them, "Though next time you go running I suggest you either go out or come back earlier."

"Sorry Mr Carson, but I can't hang a pocket watch on me shorts." Thomas said as he passed out of the room, following closely behind Alex, who laughed as the pair practically tripped over each other on the stairs. Their voices could be heard in the distance, rocking Jimmy's heart into a sickness which was usurped by the giggles of the servants who found it strange at how casual their under butler appears, so different to how he was before, how happy and at ease, unless it's because he wasn't dressed in black. Could all their personalities change with dress? Or was it just because Thomas was happier with Alex than Jimmy could ever make him?

This question bothered Jimmy throughout the day as he just stood quietly and observed, and tried to work out just what there was between Alex and Thomas, but it seemed like when they spoke, or laughed, or walked together it was in slow motion with a misted frame about them, like something from a dream. He felt the same way he did when the Duke visited and he was trying to seduce Thomas; he over-interpreted everything, and he was right to do so. Could he be right here? Thomas just seemed perfectly happy ignoring the footman, and didn't seem to care when Jimmy appeared in pain from his wounds. He didn't think Thomas was that selfish, despite what everyone said about him and his past actions, but he remembered what he said; that he wasn't strong enough to take care of anyone but himself at the moment, so how could Jimmy expect him to care about him? He couldn't, but he could wish it with every fibre of his deformed body.

* * *

It was that night he erupted, when he heard roars of laughter coming from Alex's room as he passed his door on his way to bed. He didn't bother knocking, but walked straight in to see Thomas stood next to one of the beds, watching Alex in his routine of undressing. The pair went to bed early that night, and thought they were alone, not realising just how loud they were being. But when Jimmy came in, he was instantly hurt, that Thomas could stand in a state of undress with Alex but not him, even more so as when Thomas saw Jimmy stood there, he grabbed a sheet from the bed and covered himself, even though he was still in his under shirt and long johns. Alex did not notice the tension between the two men, and was not phased by Jimmy seeing him completely topless but still in his trousers.

"Can we help you James?" Alex said, with a cautious smile.

"I need to talk to Mr Barrow."

"I'll leave you." Alex grabbed his shirt from the bed and pulled it around him as he made for the door.

"You don't have to-" Thomas started.

"It's fine." Alex closed the door softly as he left, though Thomas really wished that he hadn't, to be alone with Jimmy here brought up so many memories that he wished were forgotten, and he knew right then that he would have a nightmare tonight, and that fact alone would scare him above anything Jimmy would say to him.

"What do you want James?" Thomas asked impatiently, draping the sheet he held around himself so Jimmy could not see his de-clothed form.

"Why are you in here?"

"Not that it's any of your business; I'm sleeping in here." Thomas replied.

"With Alex?"

"Yes." Thomas knew the consequences of what he was saying would have for Jimmy, what he would be thinking, but he was not in a position to lie, and as far as he was concerned he had done no wrong.

"Why?"

"It helps me sleep."

"And what else has he been doing to help you?" The question foamed rabidly from Jimmy's mouth, Thomas having no idea what was coming over the footman who looked as if he was about to have some sort of craze induced seizure.

"What are you blathering on about?"

"Oh come on! I've seen you together, don't you think by now I know the signs?" The blonde cried.

"Jimmy, I have no idea what you're talking about!"

"You're attracted to him!"

"Attracted to Alex? My god Jimmy, Alex is my friend!"

"Come on, how you are with him is just the way you were with me."

"I don't think it is." Thomas couldn't see how he could have been, since he had feelings for Jimmy when he started, and didn't have any for Alex, either Jimmy had gone mad or he was missing something.

"Yeah right! Even Alfred sees it! Why wouldn't you be attracted to him? Have you seen him?"

"Okay, he's good looking, open, and he's playful, so what? But you don't know what you're talking about. He's only been here a few days!"

"And you've already moved into his room, and you can…. You can undress in front of him. How? I don't understand. I know you're finding it hard to trust me right now, but less than someone you barely know?"

"Yes I do trust him!" Thomas burst out in his need to just get the footman out of the room and away from him, "When I'm with Alex I don't think about the Duke. My mind is clear, I can feel sane, because he doesn't know what happened. He is the only thing in this bloody place that doesn't make me think of him."

Jimmy didn't hear anything Thomas said, he didn't hear a word, all he heard was the voice in his head telling him that Thomas could trust Alex, and that could mean anything. "Does he turn you on?"

Thomas didn't know whether to be offended, disgusted, or angered by this question. "Jimmy-"

"Does he make you hard?"

Thomas wanted to scream at Jimmy's inability to understand, to see beyond what was on the surface and his own petty insecurities which lingered from their own relationship, "I don't want to speak to you when you're like this."

"Oh my god, he does." Jimmy stepped back at his badly judged belief.

"You are being paranoid! You're consumed by this jealousy!"

"Of course I am! Especially when he's flirting right back at you!"

"Flirting? Jimmy, I don't even know if he's like us. He's being a friend, which I need right now because whether you choose to see it or not; I am a mess! Before, I had you and I had Victoria, but you've both gone-"

"Now you have Alex, and that bottle of whisky I saw you buy in London." Jimmy finished the sentence for him. Both men stayed silent for a moment as they calmed down, Thomas not realising that Jimmy saw him buy the whisky, as he did it while he was waiting for his former lover outside a shop.

"I need him," Thomas ignored the comment about the whisky, too ashamed that the youth knew about it to mention his growing dependence on it, "and if you can't accept that and show some kindness towards him then there's nothing more to say."

"I can't." Jimmy choked on his unwillingness to give in, "I can't watch you together, and I can't be kind to him when I want to put my hands around his neck." Jimmy gesticulated that very action, making Thomas see clearly his hate.

"That's too bad, because I think if you gave him a chance, you'd like him as much as I do."

"Maybe not that much." Jimmy spoke back into the room before leaving. When the door shut behind him Thomas ran his hands through his hair, that was it now, he couldn't be without it. He dropped the sheet from about him and ran to the door. Opening it he checked that the coast was clear before venturing out, and crept next door, going into his own room where he made straight for his chest of drawers from which he took the bottle of whisky, which he hid there, and did what came natural, taking the opportunity before Alex came back. Why did Jimmy torment him so? Why couldn't he leave him alone?! Would he never be allowed to be happy?


	21. Dependence

**Thank you so much for reading, it is so heart warming to know that people are reading and enjoying my writing and this story, especially since, because of the nature and subject matter of it so far, it has been very difficult to write.**

**Apologies for any spelling/ grammar mistakes**

* * *

When Alex came back to his room, once Jimmy had left, he did not ask Thomas what passed in his absence, as the under butler was feigning sleep. Alex suspected this was the case but did not trouble Thomas now, for he respected Thomas enough to leave him when he obviously did not want to speak to him. Thomas' mind was too full of thoughts; wondering whether people could believe he and Alex were together, whether that is in fact where his relationship with him was going, and was he really moving on from Jimmy? Alex was perfect, in every way, Thomas couldn't fault him, and that bothered him. The only reason he wouldn't be attracted to Alex is simply because there is nothing wrong with him, he's too good, and Thomas felt he wouldn't deserve or want someone that didn't have that black streak in them which he has always found himself drawn to in the men in his life. Something that would make him feel equal. But where had that gotten him so far? He couldn't answer his questions; only wonder about them. All he knew was that he woke up the next morning, not covered in sweat, not to Alex with his arms around him, but easily and to the soothing momentum of brushing gracing his ears. Thomas turned over to find Alex sat on his bed in a nice pair of shimmering blue pyjamas with a shoe brush and tin of polish, holding one of Thomas' shoes in his hand.

"What are you doing, Drake?" Thomas whispered as Alex looked up at him, if he knew before that Thomas was awake it did not show.

"I am shining your shoes Mr Barrow, as per our agreement."

Thomas remembered the lie Alex made up for the sake of the staff at breakfast the other morning, he was prevented to smile fully at Alex's determination as his cheek pushed into the pillow.

"You don't have to."

"Someone has to do it."

"_I_ polish my shoes!"

"Really? Hard to tell." Alex's lips inched into a smile as Thomas reached back behind his head and grabbed the pillow from under his head and threw it at Alex, who took it in the face yet kept a stoic expression, before lobbing the offending pillow back at Thomas, but missing (albeit on purpose) so it just grazed Thomas' shoulder.

"Have you ever polished a pair of shoes?" Thomas noticed that Alex had an unusual style of brushing which the youth did not acknowledge.

"What's he like? This Lord Gillingham?" Alex instead asked Thomas, not having had the privilege of meeting the nobleman who would be making an appearance the next day.

"He's seems nice enough, on the outside at least." Thomas continued to lie on his side, gazing intently at Alex, pulling the blankets up about his neck to keep out the morning cold.

"But you're not trusting."

"No."

"Isn't he the gentleman who visited before on account of Lady Mary?"

"Of course he is. That's what they're all here for. Lady Mary is ripe and the pickers are here." Thomas smirked.

"What about his valet; Mr Green?"

"He's very… interesting." Thomas could not think of another way to sum the man up in a single word.

"Is he?"

"Oh yes. He keeps us quite entertained while he's here. He got on particularly well with James, and Victoria."

A raise of his eyebrows at Victoria's name caused Alex to ask; "Oh, was he soft on her?"

"I warrant that she'll be the first person he asks after when he gets here. He'll be disappointed to find she's gone for a while."

"But you're looking forward to this Green chap coming then?"

"It's only one night, but he's always good for a laugh, nice sometimes to have someone me own age around. Hard to come by in service, they're always upstairs, not down."

"I see. Sorry I'm not a decade older." Alex chortled.

"I don't mean that."

"I know." Alex put Thomas to rest, "I suppose we always assume we would get on better with people our own age. Who knew that it's those of my age who hate me the most."

"That says more about Alfred and James than it does about you." Thomas knowing instantly who Alex was talking about.

"Thank you for that." Alex stopped brushing to dedicate himself a moment to give Thomas a small smile, "You slept a bit better last night I noticed."

"I suppose that not waking up at three o'clock in me own sweat is an improvement. Surprised no one's noticed us sleeping together except James. We're lucky, don't think we'd be allowed."

"Why not?" Alex looked inordinately startled by this opinion.

"Mr Carson's funny about that sort of thing." Thomas decided to neglect to mention that the fact he was a homosexual might give the butler cause for hysteria at him sharing a room with another man.

"He should be more understanding, but I suppose he is very-"

"What the hell?" Alex stopped rubbing Thomas' shoe, as the under butler sat up and gestured towards the said shoe which seemed to be suffering in Alex's hands from a reaction to his brushing and brought out white marks on the sides.

"I don't understand, this is the right stuff, I know it, it's shoe polish!" Alex picked up the tin which was clearly marked 'shoe polish'.

Thomas leapt out of bed, in his long johns and night shirt, too worried about his shoes to see Alex take a sharp yet silent breath as his eyes traced over the under butler's flustered form, "Why have me shoes gone like that then?"

"I don't know, I'm sure."

Thomas took his shoe off a guiltily blushing Alex and inspected the damage which he could see was irreparable. "I can't wear these like this."

"I'm sorry. I don't know what happened."

"Let me see," Thomas took the tin of polish off Alex. "It's the right can, and I know your brushing is bad but not that bad. Have you put something in this?"

"No. Maybe it's a bad batch."

"Can't be, you used this yesterday on me shoes and they were fine." Thomas not knowing what to make of the whole thing.

"I'm sorry Thomas. I'll pay for new ones."

"Don't do that. These things happen. Lucky I've got a second pair. Could you go down and see if there's anything that might get it off?"

"Of course. I'll be right back" Alex, adorning his dressing gown left Thomas alone.

Thomas looked at his shoes and shook his head before casting them onto the floorboards. He glanced at the clock, it was an appropriate time for him to return to his room before anyone saw him leaving Alex's room. He liked his arrangement with the footman and did not want it to end. He never thought he could be friends with someone like Alex, someone so kind it made him uneasy, even Victoria had a stubborn defensive streak in her. She revealed to Thomas, who absolutely believed her, that if she had to, she could be quite vicious. But Thomas had never befriended anyone as passive as Alex, but maybe Thomas needed to change his standards as he had felt better than he had in a long time. He felt more settled inside than when he was with Jimmy, even when they were in the club in London. There were times when he could see clearly again, when he could even think about what it was he wanted for himself. That is until night time came and it all vanished with the fear of nightmares and the Duke. He was so thankful for Alex because of this.

Thomas gazed fondly at the footman's bed and made it up for him. It was the least he could do after everything Alex had done for him. He turned and made up the other bed, straightening the untidy pile of pillows, he felt like a proper housemaid. He went back to his own room to get dressed, and would come back to Alex's room once he had done so. In the security of his room he removed what clothes he was wearing, averting his eyes away from the scar across his chest, and dressed himself in fresh undergarments, but when he took them from the drawer, he noticed something was missing. The whisky. Uncaring for his dignity he dropped the clothing and rifled through the clothes, tossing them in the air, completely emptying the first drawer, the second, the third. He moved on to the bed, throwing the pillows off, the sheets, lifting up the mattress. He went through everything he could think of. Standing in the centre of the room, surrounded by clothes, he ran his fingers through his hair and shivered, turning about his room, hoping to see something which would remind him of where he left his precious whisky, wondering just what he would do that night without it.

* * *

Thomas never felt he was dependent on alcohol, he knew that he could get by without it. But knowing he had lost it, that it was gone, that he had nothing to resort to, it was that drowning feeling again. The fear, the prospect of not having anything to calm him down, to stop him going over the edge, was terrifying. A watery substance would run from his eyes every now and then as the day progressed. Mr Carson would have to nudge Thomas during meal times to stop him touching his face. Jimmy paid the minimum attention to Thomas' plight, only because he chose not to notice it in the first place, while Alex would look at the under butler every time he passed behind one of the family members around the table. He saw Lady Mary raise an eyebrow at him, as she had noticed that his attention was not fully focussed, to which he gave an apologetic bow of the head, to let her know the message had been received. However he found it difficult not to keep looking at Thomas, whose hands grew shakier every hour that passed.

What was excruciating, what was the torture, was knowing it was going to happen, that he was going to have an attack, but he had no idea when. It could be in one minute, it could be in ten, it could be in ten hours, the fear was whether Thomas was going to beat it. Not overcome it, because he couldn't, he could only endure it and wait for it to pass, but could his legs run faster than the onset of the attack. Could he get to a place where no one would see him? No one would want to see him like that, and it would only cause him shame and more pain to know others had seen him in that way. So much for feeling better. He could not even tell Alex, not that the footman couldn't see, the young man as subtly as he could gripping Thomas' fingers in comfort when he could and when he felt the under butler was fading away from him and his consciousness of the present moment. Alex didn't even feel he could speak to Thomas and tell him that his shoes were irrevocably ruined. The older man reassured Alex of his steadiness by reciprocating to his touches when they came. Alex never asked Thomas what was happening, and Thomas was grateful, for if the youth asked then Thomas would certainly collapse into an attack there and then, but either way he was too ashamed to say that it was because he needed the alcohol.

Thomas found himself passing the wine cellar more frequently than normally, unless he just noticed it more. His feet kept taking him closer and closer, but it was not them he was following, he was following his chest, his mind, the quaking in his heart, the shaking in his fingers, the river of tears flowing ceaselessly from his eyes. Everything inside him told him to do it. _Steal the wine, take the wine, you need it, you've done it before, just do it. It's so simple, it's right there. _But he couldn't. He couldn't make that final step and had to distract himself with some other task. Both Thomas and Alex had been waiting for the same thing, for Mr Carson to dismiss them both, as soon as those magnificent words left the butler's lips, Alex took Thomas by the hand; damn the servants, and led him upstairs into his room and shut the door. He manoeuvred Thomas over to the bed and slowly, in a permission-seeking manner, began to undress Thomas until the latter was in his undergarments. Thomas did not mind, he did not register it was happening. Not even when Alex removed his gloves, giving his scarred hands a second glance, but not a third. Alex had to take Thomas by the elbows and pull him gently down so he might sit on the bed. Thomas blinked, like he had awoken from a sleep walk, and swung his legs onto the bed and brought his knees up into his chest and hugged them close to him, breathing more rapidly, in deep stuttering waves.

Thomas rested his head on his knees. Alex, went to his own bed and stood beside it, looking at the under butler, wondering just what he should do. He removed his clothes and changed into his pyjamas; then reached down into the small cupboard of his bedside cabinet and took out an unopened bottle of scotch. Alex was not much of a drinker, except on special occasions or when the situation demanded, and there had not been any incidents yet which fell into these categories. Not until now. Alex sat next to Thomas on the bed and unscrewed the bottle, the latter watching Alex, who just smiled at his friend before taking a swig of scotch before passing it on to Thomas, not having any glasses to fill. Thomas apprehensively took a hold of the body of the bottle, the tips of his fingers just overlapped slightly with Alex's, their eyes locking in acknowledgement of the touch. Alex released the bottle to let Thomas take a sip, feeling the moisture of saliva as he did so from where Alex had drunk; it was a strange feeling to think he was tasting Alex's saliva, but once he felt the strong liquid of the scotch coursing through his body, that glorious sanctuary which alcohol provided for him, he didn't care. When the bottle left Thomas' lips he thought to wipe over the top, in consideration for Alex, but the youth took it from him before he could do so and pressed it to his lips, while Thomas just watched them, where his lips just were, where his saliva remained, now would be imprinted upon the footman's lips. They sat in silence and leaned back against the headboard of the bed. Both men were the same height, so Thomas was aware when Alex moved himself down the bed slightly so he could rest his head on the older man's shoulder. Thomas was frozen. He felt bad not doing anything, he wanted to do something, but would he regret putting his arm about Alex? Or placing his head upon the other's? No. So he did both. What he would regret, if he would remember having said it the next day, is asking the young man a question that seemed so stupid but so necessary, because he still couldn't understand how someone like Alex could be so good to him, that it all wasn't an awful trick; "Who are you, Drake?"

"My dear Mr Barrow, maybe one day.. I'll tell you."


	22. Mr Green

**Thank you so much for reading.**

**Apologies for any spelling/ grammar mistakes**

* * *

Thomas was not convinced that Alex wasn't promiscuous; well- practiced in the procedure of one night stands, as every time Alex would fall asleep with Thomas he would wake up silently, dress silently, and just carry on as normal like nothing had happened. But Thomas was just happy that Alex was there with him, always when he needed him. What kept Thomas rested was knowing that it would not be the last time Alex would sleep next to him, not the last time he would sleep safely and without fear. It was wrong, wrong only because Thomas meant nothing romantic by it, but if he had his way he would have Alex lie beside him every night; his head resting on Alex's soft auburn locks which tickled his eyes. He worried less about the whiskey which still had not turned up, but his dependence on the alcohol bothered him as he knew his reaction yesterday wss not normal. He wondered if Alex ever felt the same about him, though it seemed foolish to think that he did, as Thomas did not believe Alex was like him, not really. He could not be sure of it, only that Alex was an extraordinary person who had a like attitude to him in his relationships with regards with authenticity. Then came to Thomas' mind one question that he did not feel ready for, but could not help but wonder; would Alex be any different as a lover?

* * *

The pair once again had to miss out on a morning run as they needed to meet Lord Gillingham outside, as was customary with all visitors to the Abbey, Lord Gillingham's arrival secheduled rather early, but he was a punctual man and did not believe in wasting time. Thomas didn't know if he was pleased or not by having to miss his run, as it did help him sleep, but when he saw Mr Green, tall, broad shouldered, dark haired Mr Green, Thomas smiled just a fraction. The valet however was too busy scanning the faces outside, Thomas knowing exactly who he was looking for. The valet had to settle though for Jimmy, and winked at him in the way he had been practising in hope of using it on some young lady, and he'd rather waste it on Jimmy than no one at all.

Once Lord Gillingham had gone up to the guest bedroom, and the servants were released back downstairs the latter all anxiously waited in the servants' hall for Mr Green to finish attending to Lord Gillingham, and to take his place among them. The valet always made a grand entry, strutting in like he owned the place and just took any seat he wanted. This time around the one which attracted him was the one right next to Jimmy, whom he surprised with a firm clap to the back.

"Mr Green! How are you?" Jimmy shook Green's hand in greeting.

"All right Jimmy? Not too bad, not too bad. You look the worse for wear if you don't mind me saying." The valet smiled confidently, casting his eyes around the room, almost critically.

"You know I mind." Jimmy drew back in offence slightly before smiling, "I've not been sleeping well."

"Oh, nothing serious I hope."

"No, just been busy." If only that were all it was.

"Always the way." Mr Green made his small attempt at sympathy, "Have you seen the paper, what do you think about the 3.30?"

"You having a bit of a flutter?"

"Oh, I've _had_ a bit of a flutter, there's time for you to get a piece of it if you want it." Mr Green raised his eyebrows, hoping to sway Jimmy to partake in a gamble with him.

"What are the odds like?"

"Eight to one, I've laid on two quid." The valet said confidently.

"Two quid! Oh, go on then, put me down for a quid. It's a dead cert?"

"I think it is, though I'm sure many disagree with me."

"I'll put me trust in you Mr Green. Say, what's your first name?" Jimmy leaned in as a confidante might, but the valet wasn't biting.

"Getting familiar aren't we?" He asked suspiciously.

"Why not?"

Mr Green, took a cigarette from his pocket, which he placed delicately to his lips. "Where's that maid, Victoria?"

"Why do you want to know?" Jimmy did not like the feeling that Green would rather spend time with someone else and not him, a feeling that he had grown used to over the past week or so.

The click of the lighter resounded as Mr Green lit his cigarette, taking it from his lips before speaking, the initial billow of smoke emitting from his lips, "I wouldn't mind getting more familiar with _her_."

"Not while Mr Barrow's around I wouldn't." Jimmy's advised him.

"I knew they were close, but they haven't made progress since I was last here have they?"

"No, it's not like that. He's like a brother to her, so you'd want to be careful."

"Consider me warned. Come on then, where is she?"

"Gone."

"Gone?! She never!" Mr Green's eyes widened like he had just witnessed a terrible accident, the effect on him appeared to be as serious.

"Blimey, you _are_ keen on her aren't you?" Jimmy looked the older man over, curious to know how a man of his mature years could think so strongly of a young girl he had only spent one day with. Reminding him of the unlikely and slightly absurd tale of Romeo and Juliet.

"Not especially, she was just… well you _must_ know. She's not like other girls you meet downstairs. She's different." Mr Green had no reason to hold back on his opinions, especially since they were true, Victoria was different. Jimmy knew why Thomas valued her so greatly.

"You can say that again."

"So where has she gone?"

"She was wrongly sacked, but she's coming back in about a month."

"In that case hopefully I'll be around for when she does." The valet taking no interest in why she was sacked in the first place.

"Mr Carson will love that." Jimmy said in a subtle sarcastic tone he hoped the valet could not pick up on too strongly, "You're pretty confident about it though?"

"Sorry, what goes on in the bedroom stays between myself and His Lordship." Jimmy snickered at the valet's choice of words and their implications, which were blatantly not an accident, as could be told by Green's expression, "But between you and me Lord Gillingham is hopeful for his own progress with Lady Mary."

"Say that to Mr Carson and you'll be thrown out, make no mistake."

"Lord Gillingham is a proper gentleman and means no harm to Lady Mary, he cares for her a great deal and he believes Lady Mary feels the same. So Mr Carson can like it or lump it as far as I'm concerned." One thing about Mr Green being from another household was that he could say what he liked about the butler, and he took his liberalities very seriously, taking advantage of them any chance he could, "Anyway, how about you and Mr Barrow? Thought you were friends."

"Not anymore." Jimmy sadly said.

"What happened?"

"You saw the new man?"

"Alexander?"

"Yeah." Jimmy hoped he didn't have to say anything further.

"What? Did he come between you?" Green guessed, not without startling accuracy.

"Yeah…." A thought came to Jimmy's mind, and Mr Green saw it as Jimmy's eyes narrowed and a smile graced his lips, "Though er- I find it strange how close they are when Alex keeps saying about how er- pathetic he thinks Mr Barrow is."

"Does he now?" The valet nodded, not determining the truth of what Jimmy was trying to put across to him until he heard the entire rendition.

"Mr Barrow has problems," Jimmy whispered, "He's been through a lot lately and he's unloading it all on Alex and it's wearing Alex down, he can't stand it. Said he's only putting up with it because he feels sorry for him."

"Really? Mr Barrow doesn't seem like the type to burden others with his problems." Green scrutinised Jimmy and his story very carefully.

"He's not, but it's different with Alex, that's why it's hard for him. I feel I ought to say something to Mr Barrow really, but I don't think he'd believe me, he'd think I'm just saying it to get back at him." Jimmy didn't know what he was doing, but he had to follow through with it now he started it, and it seemed like a good idea at the time.

"Right, and you're implying that I should speak to him."

"No. If you feel you should though it would be better coming from you, but it's not your business, you don't need to get involved." Jimmy thought he was being smart, but if he could see the expression the valet was pulling at him, in favour of watching his finger drawing circles innocently against the table edge, he would realise that he was being incredibly stupid.

"You're right, I don't think I should get involved. What do I get out of it?"

"What?" Jimmy's head shot up, but the valet's face was completely serious as he looked back at the footman.

"Come on Jimmy, it's obvious that you _are_ just trying to get back at him, so if I tell Mr Barrow what you said, what do I get?"

Jimmy shifted in his chair and made sure no one could over hear their inflammatory conversation, "What do you want?"

Mr Green knew this chance wouldn't come often, but there wasn't much he could ask for off someone he barely knew and hardly ever saw, so he was very practical, "If my horse loses then you cover my loss."

"Fine."

"And you put in a word for me with Victoria when she comes back, or before." The valet grinned mischievously.

"You _do_ have an itch don't you?" Jimmy accused him.

"Just a small one, but as with all itches it needs scratching." Mr Green informed the footman, without a glimmer of shame as to his motives with the young housemaid.

"You don't think she's a bit young for you?" Feeling hypocritical immediately as the age difference between them was about the same as between him and Thomas.

"That's a matter of perspective. Will you do it or not?"

It seemed Victoria had more value than Jimmy originally thought. "All right, if you tell Mr Barrow what I said."

"No, I'll tell him something better."

* * *

Mr Green came outside, under the pretence of smoking. It had not been long since he had spoken with Jimmy, but his services were not especially required as Lord Gillingham was spending time with the family, so he had time to take a moment the under butler had free and when he was alone, which was not much these days what with Alex hanging about him at every possible opportunity. Catching him while he was outside smoking, enjoying the cool air against the heat of the cigarette in his mouth, was the perfect time to corner the under butler as Alex did not smoke. "Mr Barrow may I have a word?"

"Of course Mr Green."

Mr Green lit a cigarette and placed it to his lips, smoking it only half- heartedly, not feeling complete comfort at lying to the unsuspecting under butler, part of him wanted to tell Thomas the truth, that Jimmy sent him out there, but if he did that then he wouldn't get his two quid back if his horse lost, and wouldn't be given help with Victoria. "I wanted to talk to you about Alexander."

"What about him?"

"I'm worried about him, and as his superior I thought you should know."

Thomas freed his mouth from his cigarette to stop it falling from his mouth, and so he could devote everything to what Mr Green was saying about his young friend, "You're worried? About Alex?"

"He told me that he's tired, and when I asked him why he said that people have been putting their problems on him and it's been weighing him down."

Thomas gulped noticeably, it was happening again, the onset of his downfall, that feeling that he was about to be betrayed, "Have they?"

"Yes, I think it gets to him because he can't understand why people can't just deal with their own problems and leave him alone. He's young, too young to be a freelance psychiatrist."

"He said that?" He felt like a pin cushion, each word pushed a fresh pin into his skin, he felt it all over his body, sinking in, deeper and deeper, one… by… one.

"Along those lines. The thing is he seems like a nice lad, too nice not to say anything to anyone else but you'd have to be pretty self- absorbed to not see there's something wrong with him."

"Right." Thomas hung his head, and breathed slowly, staring down at his shoes, hoping to look up and see that he was alone, or that the ground would consume him, take him away from the world and its cruelties, but the voice would not silence, it would only thrust more needles into his head.

"So I was thinking that since you're his superior you might be able to ward the others off him, give him some space so he'll feel better."

Thomas looked up at the 'innocent' Mr Green, "Yes, yes I'll do that Mr Green. Thank you for bringing it to my attention."

"My pleasure. Good night Mr Barrow."

"Good night."

When Mr Green turned to go inside, he held a rather large grin on his face, for he had fulfilled his part of the bargain, and now just had to collect his reward. For Thomas there was only punishment. There were no tears, he knew all along this moment would come, where Alex would turn on him, where he would not be that angel who had come to save him, no such thing existed, Mr Barrow did not believe in fairy tales, he did not believe he was a damsel waiting to be rescued. He was a man, a man of strength, who needed no one… and no one needed him. He threw down his cigarette in finality of his decision and went upstairs to his room. _His_ room, and changed for bed.

* * *

"Thomas? What are you doing in here?" Alex appeared in Thomas' doorway, not bothering to knock, not bothering to ask for permission to come in, but shut the door behind him so they could speak in private. Alex had known that Thomas came to bed early, having passed him as the youth ventured outside to partake in an evening stroll, and on his return found the under butler not where he should be, in Alex's room, and his night things were absent.

"I'm going to bed." Thomas replied casually, as he pulled back the covers in demonstration of the act he spoke of, and climbed into bed.

"In here?"

"Yes. As you said; I've been better, so I'm going to sleep in here." The under butler settled into the pillows, and surveyed the room he was in, not feeling any comfort in it, not in comparison to his peace at being in Alex's room.

"Are you sure you're ready for that?" Alex stood by the side of the bed, looking down at Thomas who was sat up under the covers.

"Yes. I'll be fine, you don't need to worry about me." Thomas said dismissively.

"I will worry, to be honest I've liked the company."

"Is that really how you feel?" Thomas searched Alex's face for flickers of the lie he was expecting him to tell.

"Of course, I wouldn't lie to you Thomas."

"Really?"

"What's the matter?" Alex lowered himself down onto the bed, by where Thomas' knees were, and looked straight into the under butler's eyes, placing one hand upon Thomas' knee through the sheets.

"Nothing." Thomas averted himself from Alex's gaze.

"Yes there is." Alex's eyes again sought contact with Thomas', "It's not the nightmares or you wouldn't be in here, you've barely spoken to James so it can't be him, what is it?"

"It's nothing Drake!" The older man snapped.

"Aha! There, you called me Drake, now I know there's something wrong, what is it?"

"Alex, please." Thomas' tone softened, not wanting to encourage any more lies from Alex's tongue, but Alex wouldn't leave it alone.

"Thomas. What is it?"

"Just go Alex, we'll talk tomorrow."

"Will we though?"

"Yes." Thomas said as sceptically as Alex asked.

"But not about this?" Silence confirmed his suspicion, "Thomas, talk to me, you're my best friend."

"I'm nobody's friend."

"Yes you are. Of course you are." Alex inched his way up the bed, sitting close enough to touch Thomas' cheek with those forward fingers, the older man removing his face from that much needed touch.

"No, you're like everyone else, you're just pretending, all this, all your niceties and perfection, it's just an act isn't it?"

"An act?" Alex used all his will to supress any show of being hurt by Thomas' sudden distrust of him. "Thomas, I'm a lousy actor. This is me, and I'm not changing, I'm not going anywhere. If you won't sleep in my room I'll sleep in here."

"There's only one bed."

"So? I'm thin." Alex demonstrated his sincerity by drawing back the covers of Thomas' bed, but the under butler held a firm grip on them, holding them about his waist.

"You wouldn't."

"I would, what's more you know I would."

"No, I don't, I don't know you! You're a stranger!" Thomas got out the other side of the bed, turning away from Alex, the footman coming after him, standing silently behind his back. When he spoke he did it so softly that the words mingled with the sound and feel of his breath on the back of Thomas' neck.

"Thomas, I am not a stranger. Look at me. Thomas, look at me." Alex touched Thomas' elbow, the under butler obeying the touch, and turning back to face the footman, "I am not a stranger. I love you, Thomas. I've never had a friend like you before."

"I don't believe you." Thomas shook his head, tears filling his eyes.

"I know. I know you don't." Yet Alex still cupped Thomas' face in his stubborn hands, "Are you afraid of me Thomas?"

Those ebony- brown eyes hypnotised Thomas into honesty, and drew the tears from his eyes, "Yes. Yes! Because I need you! I need you."

"I'm not going anywhere Thomas," His thumbs wiping the older man's tears away, who hung his head to hide them, but Alex's strength kept his head lifted, telling him that he shouldn't be ashamed, or afraid to show such feeling around him. "I don't _want_ to go anywhere… Because I need you too. I would succumb to loneliness without you here. Why are you saying these things? What's brought it on?"

"Green, he said such awful things."

"I assure you that whatever he said wasn't true." Alex still took a step closer, forcing Thomas to look in his eyes.

"I should know you're not like that." The older man raised his hands and held Alex's wrists, as the hands attached to them still held his head up.

"I understand why you could think I was. I know how hard you find it to trust people."

"But I thought I could trust you."

"Oh Thomas, you know me better."

"Than what?"

"Everything."

"I… I want to believe that."

"Then believe it. Believe me, Thomas." Alex gripped the sides of Thomas' neck with his fingertips in earnest, as he felt Thomas' own fingers close in tighter on his forearms, struggling with his mind which told him to take the youth's hands from his neck.

"I can't. I don't know you, I don't know anything."

"Thomas, you have slept in my arms for four nights like a babe. Your sweat has soaked my clothes, your tremors cramped up my legs, your eyes brought tears to mine." He wiped a coincidental tear from Thomas' cheek, before pulling his hands away, and held them before his body, and sighed at what he felt he had to do. He rolled up his sleeves, keeping tears back as he did so, dreading showing Thomas what he was about to, but he had to, to convince him of his care for him, and revealed a series of scratches and bruises marked up along his arms, "These are from your fingers, which begged me to stay by your side. Now tell me I don't care for you. Tell me you don't know me."

Thomas looked at the marks, he ached inside, he felt sick; that he could do that, that Alex had not told him to spare him the hurt, because it did hurt. He looked into Alex's warm glistening eyes and he couldn't say what the youth told him to, he could only stumble forward into Alex's arms, bury his head in to his neck and cry, "Oh Alex, I'm sorry, oh god, I'm sorry."


	23. The Gasp After Drowning

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**Apologies for any spelling/ grammar mistakes.**

* * *

Thomas slept in Alex's room that night. Thomas had no alcohol, he asked Alex for some, but the footman refused him any. He could see Thomas' dependence as much as the under butler could see it himself; instead Alex got into bed beside Thomas and lay an arm across his body, putting a pillow from his bed between them so Thomas would feel like he had a body pressed against him without taking that step himself. Thomas couldn't say anything in return for this favour he could have never asked for himself. When they woke up they silently changed into their polo shirts and shorts, without a word from the under butler who normally grumbled incessantly at the prospect of running and how much he hated it. That morning he kept his head down and found he could keep up with Alex, unless the youth had slowed purposely for him. It normally would have been Alex who would have been left the responsibility of cooling the awkward tension between them, but Thomas found the reserve within himself to do it, either that or he found a new burst of life, that gasp of air after drowning which brings the greatest sensation of release.

"Why would Green say those things? That is unless someone put him up to it." Silence. "So you already figured that out?" Silence. "You know who it is." Silence. "Alex!"

"I have a theory." Alex was forced to admit, but he did not want to incite anger in Thomas by handing a name on a plate that would no doubt enrage him. Thomas sensed this in the footman, whose intention when he kept silent was to pacify a situation and thought of the only option which would give Alex reason to act thusly.

"Jimmy." Thomas screwed his face up in an amassed hatred.

"Don't be angry. It may not be him." Though now they both thought the same thing it confirmed for them both that Jimmy was their man.

"When we get back, you hold Jimmy, and I'll punch him." Thomas said without a smile. "Then we'll get to Mr Green."

"Sure you don't want a cigarette first?" Alex asked with more gaiety.

"I can do both."

"Wouldn't it be easier you held him and _I_ punched?" Alex suggested more practically.

"You? Hurt someone? Can't imagine it. You're almost gentlemanly. Sometimes I think you belong upstairs rather than down."

"Maybe I do, in another life. But you don't know what I'm capable of, Thomas."

"Don't I? I thought you listed all your flaws to me, I'm not frightened of you singing me to death." Thomas nudged him, but Alex slowed his pace down, breathing heavily between phrases, feeling the depth of the conversation weighting him down.

"Flaws cannot be translated from a single act."

"A single act? What act might this be?" Thomas asked with intense curiosity, not that he was open to believing what Alex was telling him.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you." Alex rendered from Thomas' tone.

"Try me." Try as he might, Alex could not bring himself to say what was on his mind. "Told you, you can't even think of something, but trust me Alex, even if you said you borrowed me socks and wore a hole in them I wouldn't believe you."

"You don't know how glad I am for you saying that. You really don't."

* * *

When the pair saw Mr Green outside, smoking, they both walked straight past him, but locking eyes to communicate their hate for him. Green pulled a vacant expression, indifferent to such looks. He was joined by Jimmy, who was curious to know the success of his and Green's plan, but seeing the under butler and footman coming in together from a run made it clear enough that their scheme had failed, particularly when the pair held the same hateful looks for him as they did for Green, but with more distaste and disappointment. He seethed. Green just shrugged at the footman, that is before he insisted that since he did do what Jimmy asked he had to fulfil his side of the bargain, and so the young blonde reluctantly paid his dues, but he would not be talking him up to Victoria, in fact she would be most interested to find out what Green has done in threatening Thomas' happiness. Though of course he didn't say as much to Green, who left with his employer that morning, both men with smiles on their faces; indicative of a successful visit. It seemed that Jimmy had to take a more desperate measure to break up the happy couple that he saw in Alex and Thomas, and rubbing his chin, thought he might go and have a little chat with Mr Carson.

"Mr Barrow, office please." Mr Carson called to the under butler just as the servants were assembling for luncheon, Thomas knew that the timing of this unexpected meeting would mean that whatever it was it would not take long, but Thomas was concerned as to the purpose, but knowing Mr Carson it would be something to do with the family, some guest visiting or a member of the family going on a short trip. Thomas exchanged a tired look with Alex, both wanting what little free time they had to talk over lunch, but Thomas followed the butler into the office, as per the usual routine. "First I want to know if there's anything you wish to tell me." Mr Carson said as he took his place of authority behind his desk.

"I don't think so. No." Thomas shook his head.

"So you don't think I should know that you've been sleeping in Alexander's room for the last four nights?" Mr Carson accused the under butler, speaking as if the police were on their way to arrest him for crimes of immorality and sentence him there and then to prison with hard labour. Thomas could feel the chains about his ankles and his neck, choking him into a bout of brutal honesty.

"Who told you?"

"It doesn't matter who told me, I want to know why."

"It helps me, sleeping in a different room." Thomas confessed, a hint of shame glinting in the vowels of his words, as was the frequency of its touch, ashamed to confess that if not for sleeping in Alex's room he would not be alright, far from it he would be mess.

"Although this may be the case I cannot allow you to continue sleeping with Alexander in his room, however innocent it may be." Mr Carson averted his eyes towards his desk, while raising his eyebrows upon use of the word 'innocent'; it being so rarely associated with Thomas. It would not be on a list of his top ten qualities anyway.

"Because where _I'm_ concerned it isn't innocent really?" Thomas' blood began to boil as the atmosphere had the same resonance as when he talked to Mr Carson after he was officially outted by way of his 'sleep kiss' with Jimmy.

"All I'm saying is that I take it you weren't planning on telling Alexander about your… inclinations," the butler used his chosen words carefully, "and I can't allow him to sleep with you when-"

"When he's unprepared for the foul beast that will jump him in the night?" Thomas felt his foot tapping repeatedly against the floor to control his anger at what he was hearing, the offence he took and the insult at what Mr Carson ignorantly believed him and those like him were like.

"Steady on Thomas." Mr Carson's professionalism was drawn back by his surprise at the under butler's reaction.

"No, I won't Mr Carson. I can't." Thomas stormed outside, leaving Mr Carson completely bewildered in his wake. Thomas went in the servants' hall, he looked at Miss O'Brien, knowing if someone would use the information of him sleeping with Alex against him it would be her, it would not be Alex, and Mr Carson had not seen them himself. It was Jimmy however, who diverted his eyes as a guilty party would, and Thomas knew he had the guilty party in his sight. He could ignore Jimmy before, but now… he had enough.

"James! Outside! Now!" The footman, not thinking his former lover would figure out so quickly that it was him, followed the under butler obediently, ready to receive a verbal spanking, "Why did you do it? Why?"

"I'm sorry, I had to, I felt I had no choice!" The footman did not even bother denying his action or asking what it was he had done, they both knew and there was no point in claiming otherwise.

"You're unbelievable! You're so selfish!"

"I know, and I'm sorry. Victoria said I should give you time and one day you'll figure out that you'll need me, but every day that passes that hope seems to get further away."

"So you would rather I have nightmares and panic attacks, loading meself up on booze every night so I need you?"

"No, of course not." Jimmy said honestly, never thinking this would be the consequence of his interference, "I was angry, you know what I'm like. I can't help meself. Just like when I made you think that what the Duke did to you were your fault, I know it weren't."

"Still doesn't change the fact that you are trying to sabotage my friendship with Alex, not to mention sabotaging me mind!"

"I'm sorry-"

"I mean, that stunt you pulled with Green, what the hell was that?! What were you thinking?!" The disdain Thomas felt was something he never thought he would feel when he looked upon Jimmy's face which emanated a richness of angelic splendour, but it was there.

"That's the thing; I wasn't, I wasn't thinking, it just happened." Jimmy was on the point of tears, shame stung his eyes and constricted his chest so his words were forced from him in short breathy cries.

"Too many things 'just happen' with you don't they?"

"I'm sorry Thomas, but can you blame me? Put everything aside for one minute, and don't get angry, just think. Can you really blame me?"

The two men stopped, they felt the cold against the heat of their faces, and their minds numbed, the emotion cooled, and Thomas thought. It took him time to see beyond his immediate feeling and organise his thoughts, but he did it and he put himself in Jimmy's place, behind the hurt he could see in his eyes, that same emptiness he saw when he looked in the mirror every morning, just staring back at him. "No. No, I can't blame you, but you still shouldn't have done it."

"I know, and I'm sorry, I'm trying to be better, I am, I just can't when I'm not with you. I just find it so hard to see you together, to think that you've moved on-"

"Jimmy… I haven't moved on. Whatever we feel for each other right now I wouldn't have you think that I've moved on."

This was all Jimmy needed to hear. Why couldn't Thomas have told him as much when he spoke to him in Alex's room a few nights previous? But Jimmy was pleased to hear it now, and was not guilty in making that fact known. "Good, because kills me that you can be so close to him, that you act like nothing's ever happened between us, like I was nothing to you."

"That's not true and you know it." Thomas rolled his eyes tiredly.

"Do I?"

"I'm hurting, Jimmy-"

"I know that, but I am too…" The blonde took Thomas by the elbows, the older man choosing not to pull away, "and I'm sorry, I didn't mean it when I said it were your fault, because I know it wasn't, I would never ever think that, you have to believe me; I was just upset and scared and angry. I would never hurt you on purpose."

"Just by accident." Thomas retorted coldly.

"I made a mistake;" Jimmy closed his eyes in shame at the memory of his past words which brought so much pain and trouble, "a stupid, idiot mistake that I will regret every day of my life. Do you think… that you can ever forgive me? That maybe we could have a chance, even as friends?"

"I don't know."

"But there must be something I can do. Please just tell me what I can do. Because if I can't then I can't stay at Downton. I can't be around you and not even be friends with you, I'm not strong enough to do it. I can't go on like I have the last two weeks. So please, anything."

Thomas had to admit to himself that he could not bear the way things were with them now, but as friends would they be opening doors that should remain closed for both of their sakes. Was it worth the risk? Then again, Thomas was always open to a little risk, so long as it made things better for himself. "I wouldn't want you to do that, and you're right; things can't stay the same. I suppose, if you apologise to Alex-"

"Done."

"And are nice to him from now on-"

"Absolutely."

"It will be a start." Thomas believed that if the three of them could get on, then Thomas would feel safer, there would be less pressure as he and Jimmy would not be alone so often, and nor would he and Alex, he would have two supports instead of one, and what's more, Jimmy would no longer come between them, they could just all be happy together.

"Yes. I'll even do it now, at lunch you'll see we'll be like peas in a pod." Jimmy bobbed about with eager determination, a determination which gave him much credit in Thomas' eyes, but the under butler found it hard to believe that Jimmy had such control over himself that he could so easily and suddenly change his opinion of Alex. But the footman darted straight for the back door without a moment's hesitation, so Thomas felt he had to reward Jimmy with a sign of good faith. "Jimmy?" The footman stopped at the sound of Thomas' charming voice, that wonderful, glorious voice that he missed floating through the air in his direction, "Do you want to go for a walk later?"


	24. Making Amends

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**Apologies for any spelling/ grammar mistakes.**

* * *

Alex had made Thomas realise that he was capable of trust, and in turn that he could trust Jimmy. He was right to place his faith in Jimmy; as true to his word Jimmy rushed inside and slid himself into a chair beside Alex who looked at him cautiously. Everyone stopped whatever it was they were doing, including Alfred who was most intrigued at his friend associating so willingly with their sworn enemy. Jimmy didn't care about Alfred's concerns, he didn't even notice as he opened conversation with a wary yet open Alex.

"What was your father like? From your talk you seem to have been close to him?" Jimmy leaned on the table with his arms folded as he waited for dinner to be served; so that he might ignore the looks he was getting from the rest of the table, all waiting for the drama they believed was about to ensue between the two men.

"Not really actually. I never saw him much except when he would read to me. He was always busy or I was away." Alex attempted a smile, but could not hide his discomfort; whether it was the question itself that brought such feeling or the asker remained to be seen.

"Where were you?"

"I was sent away to school." The expression on his face denoted a slight resentment to this.

"You must come from a rich family." Jimmy assumed, but even as he said it he knew it could not be so otherwise Alex wouldn't be working as a footman, he'd be the kind to _have_ a footman.

"Well.. not especially.. my er- father was in the army since he was eighteen, I got a scholarship you see."

"Oh, well when you said your father was a military general I thought he might have some connections or something." Though Alex's explanation was also adequate.

"Hardly think if I had a father with such connections I would be working as a footman. No offence." He hastily added.

"Service isn't for everyone." Judging the expressions of everyone else, the footmen were in a minority.

"If you got a scholarship you must be pretty smart, why are you in service?" Ivy chimed in, not wasting a moment to flatter the auburn footman as she dished rolls up around the table.

"The right opportunity hasn't presented itself to me," Alex replied to her, "besides I'm happy here, and that's all that really matters."

"So what do you want to do?" Jimmy continued, glaring at Ivy, warning her not to interrupt again, not that her eyes were taken off Alex's features for a moment.

"I don't know yet. There's no rush."

"Wouldn't your father want you to go in the army?" Thomas was hanging onto the pair's conversation, not daring to intervene in the blossoming of the friendship before his eyes, and left Jimmy to ask Alex the questions he had not yet asked him himself.

"I don't know." Alex responded, but this time with more timidity.

"But surely-"

"Would you desist?!" The footman snapped in a hushed manner; before touching his lips with the back of his fingers regretfully at his small outburst.

"Alex?" Thomas touched the youth on the shoulder in concern.

"Apologies, that was terribly rude of me. Would you excuse me?" Alex stood from the table, "It's all right, Thomas." He said, placing a staying hand upon Thomas' shoulder, as the under butler motioned to follow him. All eyes following the footman as he exited the room to splash some much needed water on his face.

"You seem very concerned for him." Miss O'Brien pointed out to the under butler who held his eyes upon the fading body of the footman longer than anyone else.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Thomas turned back to the table and directed his attention towards the food on his plate.

"Didn't think you liked his sort." O'Brien said more casually than she meant it.

"What sort would that be?"

"Acting above his station the way he does; he fancies himself to be a proper little gentleman doesn't he?"

"A little courtesy and manners are nothing to complain about Miss O'Brien." Mr Carson said, not liking to think that Alex's exemplary behaviour so far gave cause for criticism.

"With _him_ there seems to be little else."

"He makes up for what you lack then, Miss O'Brien." Thomas argued.

"That'll do." The butler said before the ladies' maid could retaliate and take the conversation further downstream than was appropriate, because she would have, given the chance.

* * *

Alex was quiet for the rest of the day, he was clearly embarrassed by what happened at lunch even though Jimmy could understand that it must be hard for him to talk about his father and maybe he should have practised more diligence when he was asking his questions which were meant to be in a friendly capacity, and only hoped he had not made things worse between him and Thomas. Thomas did not seem to think so any road as he held no anxiety, from what could be seen, in sharing a joke with him and sparing a smile in his direction any chance they got. They even managed to have a laugh about Mr Green's visit and his apparent feeling for Victoria. It was strange for Thomas, but welcome at the same time. It was the complex concoction of emotion, and his handling of the situation with the missing whisky, which made him come to a decision which he was eager to talk to both footmen about and asked Jimmy to come for an evening walk with him and Alex. However as they came downstairs in their coats, ready to brave the night together as they had done before, a sight before them gave them reason to shudder as they saw Miss O'Brien talking discretely with Alex. As soon as the ladies' maid spotted Thomas lurking in the shadow of the stairwell she bid Alex good night and sidled away, passing Thomas and Jimmy in the process. The tone of the conversation made Alex's eyes follow her with suspicion and he saw Thomas and Jimmy standing there and came towards them more openly than he had been the rest of the day.

"Thomas. James." He greeted them.

"What was O'Brien talking to you about?" Thomas cut to question he must have answered before anything else had to be said.

"I was actually coming to talk to you about that." Alex scratched his head and looked over Thomas' shoulder to make sure no one was listening. "You see, she keeps giving me advice."

"What about?"

"About you; saying I should be all open and familiar with you, but the way she keeps looking at us and encouraging me to get close to you; I don't know it's just very strange, I don't trust her."

"She's also been suggesting that you have… unnatural inclinations," Jimmy added. "She's been making subtle hints about your relationship with Thomas." Alex's eyes widened, not at the implication made against him, but that a woman he barely knows and as far as he knew had done no wrong to, would say such things about him. What was she trying to achieve? His embarrassment? His arrest?

Thomas fixed his eyes on the ceiling in exasperation at the ladies' maid's trick, "Have you done anything to upset her?"

"No. I don't think so."

"What about Alfred?" Jimmy thought.

"Well, I think I might have hit a nerve when I told him that Ivy gave me a kiss on the cheek when I helped her carry some things from the larder." Alex remembered Miss O'Brien's nephew's reaction and he knew that since then Alfred had been acting strangely towards him, and that was when Miss O'Brien had first approached him about Thomas.

"She gave you a kiss?" Jimmy raised his eyebrows, in his rejection of her she had certainly stepped up her game. He had clearly unleashed some kind of monster on the world.

"Yes, she told me I was handsome and kind." Alex elaborated.

"You told Alfred this?"

"Yes… Oh no." It suddenly hit him. Of course, Alfred was in love with Ivy, he didn't realise it when he first started so did not realise the harm he caused in speaking of the maid's action towards him, but once he learned of it he did not relate it to Alfred's behaviour towards him since then.

Thomas and Jimmy looked at each other with a sigh as they discovered the depth of the ladies' maid's scheming ways, "I think all three of us have a history with O'Brien, and she tried to take her revenge all at once." Thomas said.

"By making you angry at me for coming between you, and maybe making myself look stupid with over familiarity, with the accompanying suggestion of homosexuality. At least _you_ thought that didn't you James?" Alex concluded.

"Yes." Jimmy confessed ashamedly, he felt Thomas' eyes bearing into him and knew that now was the time to make amends. "Look Alex, I'm sorry I said those horrible things, and that I told Green to say those things to Thomas about you. I honestly didn't mean any of them. I never meant to be so hard on you, it was just difficult seeing Thomas be so close with someone else after we were best friends, and so happy when I've been miserable."

"I understand, though I hope you understand in turn the seriousness of what you did when you said those things to Mr Green."

"I do." The look on Jimmy's face, a look which the blonde could not bring to show Alex in his detriment, was enough to prove his regret at what he did.

"All the same Thomas told me about London. I can't believe what that awful man did to you." Alex continued.

"I know, and I stupidly blamed Thomas for it, and I know now that I was wrong to. Very wrong, and I'm sorry. I think that's also why I've been so bad to you Alex; I'm still not quite right-"

"There's no harm done," Alex stopped him from giving such an unnecessary apology, "so long as we can all move past it now, and I won't be taking any notice of Miss O'Brien's advice. I'm just sorry I've caused so much trouble."

"Don't apologise. It's not your fault." Jimmy was quick to say.

"I'm glad you think so, just as I would be if maybe we could all be friends, now you two seem to have worked things out… I hope." Alex drew his breath as he looked sceptically between the pair, who also shared a look.

"We're getting there." Thomas said, drawing a thin smile from Jimmy's lips.

"Friends sounds good to me." The blonde said to Alex, "Come on. Join us for a walk."

* * *

Jimmy threw off his hat and coat onto one of the beds in Thomas' new room. The under butler having arranged with Alex on their evening walk to switch rooms with him, as being in a different environment should continue to help Thomas with his new sleeping pattern. They agreed to progressively exchange their things until they had all completely moved into their new rooms, though they had taken a few 'necessary' items with them that they would need immediately. Jimmy slumped down onto one of the beds as Thomas shut the door and slowly took his hat off and his coat, it was easier now, now that he could sit on a separate bed to Jimmy and think that the footman expected nothing of him now and things could carry on like they were just before the Duke arrived at Downton all those weeks ago and disrupted their lives so heinously. "You're right, Alex is a nice bloke." Jimmy freely admitted now he was more open to friendship with the youth.

"Told you."

"Bloody O'Brien." Jimmy cursed as he lay back on the bed, Thomas averting his eyes to prevent any past or imaginative thoughts from creeping into his mind. "We should have seen it, after all that's exactly what she did to me when I first arrived."

"The difference is I liked you. That's why it didn't work this time… Anyway it's done now; let's just enjoy her failure."

"It were nice of Alex to give up his room." Jimmy looked around the room which was larger than Thomas' former one; it was a generous sacrifice for Alex to give up so readily. "Do you think he knows about us, our past?"

"I don't know. Maybe. He hasn't said anything." Thomas knew that if Alex did know something he probably wouldn't be so familiar with him, out of fear of giving off the wrong signals, in the past Thomas would have leapt at him, in the same way he did with the late Mr Pamuk who visited almost a decade before, and with Jimmy after that, but Thomas was older and wiser now and was more careful in reading the signs and despite Alex's forwardness, even if it was to him and him alone, he was not willing to accept there was more than friendship there.

"You didn't tell him then, about us?"

"I don't feel I can trust him with that yet. I can't get a read on him still, I know he's fearless when it comes to familiarity and he's not a ladies' man," Alex being in fact the opposite, repelling women at every turn, though they still couldn't take the hint, "but I don't know. I hope at some point I can tell him."

"That _we_ can."

Thomas looked down at his hands at Jimmy talking of them as a unit again, before that day he would have doubted any kind of future he had with Jimmy in it, but now it was just a blur. "Thank you; for what you said to Alex."

"I meant it you know. It wasn't your fault."

"I know," Thomas could say, and found that now was the time to make his announcement that he had yet to tell Alex, "and I've decided to go and see Dr Clarkson, to get help."

"That's great." Jimmy sat up at Thomas' words which spelled out so many possibilities for them both, "I'll come with you, if you want me to."

"I'd like it if you could. Thank you."

"No matter what it is, I'm there for you, I always will be, just talk to me. I don't want you to protect me. If you cry I want to be there to comfort you, if you need to talk I want to be there to listen. I want to share everything with you; the good and the bad. Even if it is only as friends." Jimmy said the last sentence in a hope that it was not absolutely the case, "Do you think there's any hope for us to be together again?"

The hope in Jimmy's eyes could not be extinguished, only inflamed further as Thomas told him, "There's always hope."

"But you can't be certain?"

"No. I can't. I wish I could be, but me head is just still- Alex has helped, but it still doesn't change how I feel when I'm near you, that I think of him and relive it all again. That weakness I feel inside that makes me think I can never be with anyone again-"

"I know." Jimmy said, unable to hear more.

"But I want to get help so I won't remember anymore, so maybe, maybe when I can forget and it will be easier to be around you, then we can talk again… about us-" Thomas spoke carefully, not wanting to give Jimmy too much hope, for both of their sakes.

"Yeah, but it's all right, I won't hold you to anything." Not that he didn't know that under butler's words would play incessantly through his mind every minute in a desperate desire to return to that happiness once experienced by him in taking a place in Thomas' heart.

"Thank you, Jimmy. Thank you."

Jimmy cleared his throat, it was not like him to have to seek attention in this way, so Thomas immediately knew that Jimmy had nothing good to say to him. "By the way, how much did your shoes and the whisky cost?"

"Why?" Thomas eyed the footman up accusingly, who was wincing painfully at the idea of his wallet growing ever thinner, and what caused it to be so, especially after the consequence of his brief alliance with Mr Green.

"Don't ask, just tell me how much."


	25. Third Wheel

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**Apologies for any spelling/ grammar mistakes**

* * *

"So let me get this straight," Mr Carson started, rubbing his eyes in exasperation at the trouble his under butler was determined to cause him, "you are going to sleep in Alexander's room, and Alexander is going to sleep in your room?"

"Yes Mr Carson, I trust you have no objection." Thomas replied, standing before the desk in Mr Carson's office, having put in his request to the butler who could hardly make an objection to something as simple as switching rooms, but it was proper that he ask permission to do so.

"Very well, thank you for letting me know," The butler gave in. He knew of course that sleeping in another room helped Thomas, as he was told the day before, but he could not help but feel there was some ulterior motive underlying Mr Barrow's request, but perhaps he was just being paranoid. Thomas gave a nod of thanks and strolled from the room in restrained glee, believing that maybe for once things were going his way, winking at Jimmy as he passed him in the kitchen. Alfred caught the gesture as he was stirring a saucepan of sauce in the kitchen and followed him with forbidding eyes. The older man passing from view Alfred saw Jimmy smiling at his wordless interaction.

"What happened to hating him? I noticed at breakfast that you and Alex were snug as bugs."

"Snug as bugs?"

Alfred ignored Jimmy's mockery of his poor choice of words. "I'm telling you, next time you wake up it'll be Alex kissing you."

"You're being ridiculous." Though at that point he wouldn't mind being woken in such a way, having acknowledged Alex's good looks already, but it was more a want for attention that had been lacking since his renunciation of women; attention he was beginning to find that he sorely missed and was not the kind that could be made up for by Thomas and Alex's friendship.

"Me auntie says he and Mr Barrow are queers. You should stay away from them."

"Maybe you shouldn't listen to everything your auntie tells you, be more independent like."

"But-"

"Alex," Jimmy cut him off before he lost his temper at Alfred's continuing insults of Alex and Thomas, "is alright once you get to know him, I mean I thought he were arrogant but he's not… I mean he can't help it, he's very skilled."

"So you're his friend now?" The assistant cook sneered.

"I suppose so yes."

"And Mr Barrow?"

"Yes." Jimmy replied with strong willingness.

"How? How can you keep forgiving him?" Alfred set the saucepan down on the counter and wiped his hands on his apron

"Because he didn't do much wrong to make me rather be his enemy than his friend." Jimmy exclaimed, Jimmy's behaviour in the past days had by far surpassed any wrong Thomas had done by him in ignoring him the way he had been.

"Well I'm not going to play happy families with you all."

"Fine, have it your way." The footman shrugged with an indifference which stopped Alfred's heart at the thought of losing his only friend to others whom he believed were lesser than himself, and less deserving of Jimmy's friendship than he was, he who had helped Jimmy through the last two weeks.

"What? We're still friends aren't we?"

"Were we ever really friends, Alfred?"

"I thought so." The assistant cook said quietly, devastated in his own right that the blonde couldn't even call their relationship one of friendship and yet after spending one evening with Alex was able to say he was his friend.

"Then we'll be friends. Just don't make me choose."

If Alfred weren't now so certain of Jimmy rejecting him in favour of Alex and Thomas he would have given an ultimatum to the footman, but he could only nod and force himself to agree, determined to have someone else who he could talk to that wasn't his auntie. "All right."

Taking note of Alfred's downcast expression, and the slowed pace with which he was stirring the sauce in the pan, Jimmy asked him; "So how have things been with you and Ivy?"

Jimmy patiently listened to Alfred drabble on about how much better things have been between him and Ivy, as he had been less forward in his manner, but confessed that because of Alex he saw very little hope for himself. Jimmy advised the assistant cook to move on and find himself a bigger fish; that is until Alfred declared that there was no bigger fish in his opinion, but in Jimmy's mind he thought that maybe Alfred was being stubborn and just did not want to give up on his enterprise, not that the ginger would ever agree with him.

His patience wearing thin, Jimmy made an excuse after about ten minutes of listening to Alfred's moans and went into the servants' hall which Ivy was coming out of, Jimmy saw her give Alex a fleeting massaging touch on the shoulders as she walked past him. Alex pursing his lips in vehement frustration at her persistence, "That girl is relentless."

"She is, and she's one to hold a grudge so be careful." Jimmy warned as he took a seat next to Alex, who was now sat between the blonde and Thomas.

"I have been warned."

"So, what you talking about?" The new arrival asked the pair who were part way through conversation.

"A discussion about my smoking and Alex's running has led us to a discussion about lifestyle choices." Thomas smiled as he stubbed out an ironical cigarette.

"Bet you have a lot to say don't you Thomas?" Jimmy joked without thinking, but Thomas, not certain what Jimmy would have expected him to say, gave him a hard stare.

"What?"

"Nothing."

Alex, not interested in trying to grasp at an answer which would not come if he asked either man what Jimmy meant in his question, cleared his throat and asked the blonde; "Jimmy I was wondering if maybe you wanted to join Thomas and I for our morning runs?"

"Oh, please say yes as that means I won't have to do it anymore." Thomas threw his head back in hope.

"You don't want to run with me?" Alex furrowed his eyebrows, taking Thomas' enthusiasm at not spending his morning with him personally.

"I do," He assured Alex, "but you're too fast I can barely keep up and I do like that extra hour in bed in the morning."

"So instead you'll lose three hours in the evening?" The run making Thomas tired enough every night to fall asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow, getting there with or without alcohol was dependent on the day he was having.

"Alex, please. Now I'm going to the doctor's I'm hoping he'll be able to give me something for it."

"You're going?" Alex's dejected expression broke into one of elation as he grabbed Thomas' knee, much to Jimmy's jealousy and discomfort, but the blonde was at least glad that the under butler told him the news before he had told Alex.

"Indeed I am." Thomas, in response to the smiles on both Alex and Jimmy's faces, was now confident to wear his own expression of pride at this huge step he had decided to take.

"Thomas, why that's fantastic!" Alex leaned forward and threw his arms around the unsuspecting under butler who happily reciprocated the embrace, Jimmy unable to look on in anything but envy, as he hadn't embraced Thomas in a long time, fixed his eyes upon the table. "I'll go with you if you like." Alex offered as he released him.

"Jimmy's coming with me." Thomas indicated to the footman who felt an essence of superiority over the second footman, whose eyes were unusually glazed with a moment of disappointment in realising that Jimmy had been told before him.

"Oh- well at least you're going with someone. If the doctor gives you something then I guess you don't need to run with me. You are a free man!" Thomas taking a victorious cigarette from his pocket almost in an ironic defiance at Alex's healthy exertions. "How about you then, Jimmy?"

"Go on then, why not?" If he got the same amount of attention Alex did from having a legitimate reason to walk around downstairs in his shorts, and if he received credit from Thomas for making such an effort to befriend Alex, then it was surely worth it.

"This I've got to see." Thomas widened his eyes, already thinking up jokes for when he saw Jimmy in his running gear, "You know you can't keep a comb in your running shoes?"

"I think I can go an hour without brushing me hair."

"We'll see." Thomas snickered behind his cigarette.

"Oh, I forgot, Mr Carson wants to see you." A metaphorical light bulb of recollection sprang up from Alex's shining head of hair.

"What about?"

"I don't know. Something about your next half day I believe he said."

"Oh right." For a moment the footman thought it might he might have been in for a scolding, had anyone found out about his delinquencies the past few days. "Thanks, I'll go now."

"Join us for a walk later will you?" Alex leaned back on his chair to put the invitation to the footman, who was pleased at the prospect of not being left out of anything anymore.

"Of course."

He walked past O'Brien in the dark empty corridor, who as was her usual way, could stop any one in their tracks by uttering one well- rehearsed and carefully thought over phrase which would have the greatest impact, "Don't you feel like a third wheel James?"

"Oh shut up."

"He has become very popular as of late has our Mr Barrow."

"He's not 'our' Mr Barrow, and he's not popular with everyone." Jimmy wished it were otherwise, that everyone could see what he could see in the under butler, but Jimmy was inclined to disagree with Miss O'Brien because he could not agree with her, otherwise he would be going along with whatever scheme she was undergoing now.

"Still, it's unusual for him to be surrounded by young men."

"He's been through a lot and just wants to get on with life, if you'll let him."

"I don't want to imply anything-"

"Then don't, just leave us alone."

"Don't you think that there's something going on between those two, I haven't seen Mr Barrow like that since-"

"I know, since I started." Jimmy's correct presumption startled the ladies' maid who was left thinking of what next to say and whether she had been rumbled, "That's what you were going to say, right?" The woman said nothing; acting as an injection of confidence being shot directly into his arm Jimmy continued in hushed tones. "I know your game Miss O'Brien, we've wised up to it. Even if I hadn't, even if Alex was a homosexual, I wouldn't care. I like him."

"If that's how it is maybe I should be warning Thomas instead." Miss O'Brien calmly replied, determined not to let the hot headed youth get the better of her.

"You're so bitter. It's pathetic. I don't care what you tell Thomas, you won't get a different response. Just keep your nose out of our business." Jimmy hissed.

"If that's what you want, but I'm warning you, those two are more than friends."

"And I'm warning you to stay silent." Jimmy delivered his empty threat.

"Or what?"

Jimmy stormed off, knowing there was no 'what' to elaborate upon, and he didn't want to give her the satisfaction of telling her he cared, for he did care, he cared very much. He wanted to know what happened when Alex came to Thomas' room in the night, he wanted to know what happened for the time when Thomas stayed in Alex's room. Part of the reason he told Mr Carson about it was because he was scared, he was scared that maybe Thomas might take that chance and repeat history again and creep over to Alex's bed and kiss him. Alex, even if he was straight, even if he didn't like Thomas in any way, would never react the way Jimmy reacted, Jimmy knew that for sure. He was terrified, Alex was better than him, even Alfred said so; he was hard- working and quick to learn, just as good looking, more mature, and smarter. Jimmy had nothing in advantage of him, nothing, except official position, but Jimmy couldn't hate Alex, he couldn't do it. In fact, if they were strangers and met in a club, Jimmy might even have ideas about him. That, now that, was mortifying.


	26. Victim

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**Apologies for any spelling/ grammar mistakes.**

* * *

_My Dear Thomas,_

_Thank you for warning me about Mr Green, when I return I shall be on my guard constantly, I can't believe that Jimmy told him to say those things to you, any chance that man had with me is now completely gone, that's for sure. _

_I felt very proud of you when you wrote that you are going to the doctors, and it's wonderful that Jimmy agreed to go with you. It seems you don't really need me at all, you're well looked after between him and Alex keeping constant watch over you. It means I can worry less about you and stop pestering my brother with my worries, though I do confess it is lovely being close to him again. I even went to one of those clubs for people like you and I got talking to a rather interesting woman who asked me home at the end of the night, fortunately she wasn't too dejected when I told her there was no chance of that happening. Luke and Darren had a good laugh about it for a while though._

_I'm pleased that you and Jimmy are on the way to sorting things out between you, and that you have found a way to forgive him, especially after those rotten tricks he played on you, though I can't say I'm not pleased he took away your alcohol, even if his intention was to frame Alex for it like you believe it was. That being said I am pleased that he has finally accepted Alex. I can't wait to meet him, he sounds just lovely, from what you've been saying about him anyway. Though I have been wondering whether perhaps you may have possible feelings for him? I know you think a lot of him and you may not be ready for a relationship yet, but from what you've been saying he makes you very happy. I'm sorry if I'm wrong, contrary to belief I don't want to meddle, but I was just wondering. That is unless you feel there is still hope for you and Jimmy? You don't really talk about that in your letters, and I understand why you wouldn't want to, but knowing you as well as I do; if you don't talk about something then it bothers you. I know you can't control your feelings, I only hope you can sort them out soon and that you can talk to me about this, because from what you've been saying I can only assume that Jimmy must still care for you very much._

_Write to me when you figure it out, hopefully that will be before I'm with you all again, you'll have time as I've decided to stay with my parents over Christmas to save coming back and forth on the train over the holidays. Don't miss me too much. _

_Much love_

_Victoria_

* * *

_My meddlesome Victoria,_

_You should stop worrying about me. I do miss having you around, but as you said; I'm well taken care of here. I have been pleasantly surprised by Jimmy and his behaviour towards Alex, though O'Brien is determined to stick her oar in when it suits her. She's avoided me though, which counts for something, and is rather aiming her attention towards Jimmy, she probably thinks the same as I do; that Jimmy will go back to how he was before with a little manoeuvring. _

_Sounds like you had a good time at the club, maybe you should have taken that woman up on her offer, after all you have no other love interests; that is unless you take Green up on __his __offer? Or is there someone else you're neglecting to mention?_

_Green on the other hand is harmless, unless there's a woman involved, so you will be right to be wary, but I'll always look out for you. You know that. Though of course you don't need me to do you? You'll like Alex, you can't not like Alex, he's a saint, but I do NOT have feelings for him. I can't even get a proper read on him. There has been talk that he might be like me because he's so familiar all the time, but I'm not sure. I've never met anyone quite like him in all my life, it's like he doesn't belong downstairs. It's like he's sacred, that he can do no wrong, believe me I've been looking for faults but I can't seem to find any. To be honest it does make me more afraid that he is hiding some terrible secret. I don't know whether I would rather be right or wrong. If he is hiding something it can't be much worse than what I've done in my time._

_I have my first trip to the doctor's tomorrow, Jimmy is coming with me. I know it'll be fine, so long as Jimmy doesn't talk about us, I don't think I'm ready for it yet. I don't think I'll ever be ready for it. It's just not the same any more. Nothing's the same. I'm different to how I was, I don't want to cause trouble, strangely enough, I just want to get on with my life and have some peace. Not that I'm getting much. Yet I'm starting to feel like I want something different in my life rather than just a pretty boy I have to look after, I want more than that. I value Jimmy, and need him now as a friend, too much to risk him for something that we have already tried and failed at._

_In other news; Lady Rose is coming to Downton. She'll be here by the weekend… lucky us. I hear she's quite the troublemaker, but maybe they need a bit of that upstairs, so long as she doesn't trouble me I don't mind one bit. I heard she likes pursuing that which she can't have, so anything that's out of bounds Mr Carson will have to keep a sharp eye on (including the servants). I have heard rumour about her dalliances with married men ,can't imagine Jimmy and Alex will evade her for too long. It'll be more interesting than Lord Gillingham's repeat visits; he's really pushing himself, apparently next time he's going to bring a friend. His presence will no doubt be as dreary as Gillingham's, but Rose's presence should keep us all amused for a short while anyway. _

_I anticipate your return. I will have to savour the freedom from your meddling. I can't wait to watch you repel Green, it'll be a proper floorshow I should imagine. _

_Thomas_

Despite what he had written, Thomas was feeling a concoction of raw emotion, directed explicitly towards Victoria's implications that he could harbour feelings for Alex. Could he? Alex. He was attractive, charming, kind, generous, loving, and those were just a few of his qualities and Thomas had only known him three weeks, but it somehow felt like they had been life long friends. He enjoyed Alex's company as much as he would enjoy the freedom of his waking world. Yet for all Thomas claimed to know about Alex the one thing that may have the greatest bearing on his feeling for him was what could not be answered; was Alex like him? Thomas sorely wanted to know. Since he and Jimmy had mended their bridges the auburn had been as open and familiar to the blonde as he had been with Thomas, and the under butler was sure that when he was introduced to Victoria Alex would be the same with her, but he could not ask him, though he would certainly have grounds for it after all the rumours circulating about him. Mr Carson had seen the source of those rumours silenced (specifically O'Brien and Alfred) once he caught wind of their scandalous indications. However since then the under butler had noticed the butler had been keeping a watchful eye on Thomas and Alex and tried to distribute jobs to them which would separate them, but they always found a way around it, finding the endeavour of outwitting Mr Carson an amusing challenge for them both, about the only kind of trouble Thomas was willing to cause.

After having to listen to erroneous complaints about both the footman and under butler being allowed to go to Ripon, without reason being given, Thomas and Jimmy left the Abbey for the doctor's. They talked just as they used to on the way to distract Thomas from what he was expecting to be an excruciating visit. Having no idea what they were going to ask or say to him, he therefore could not even plan what he would say to them, it would no doubt be lies; similar to the ones he told Alex. He only prayed silently that they would give him something to help him sleep, otherwise even with Jimmy trying to stop him he would have to go somewhere that day and buy a bottle of whisky to keep himself calm. It was strange being there with Jimmy, when Thomas felt he should be there with Alex. He missed not feeling awkward, he missed not thinking about the Duke every second, it was that feeling which stopped Thomas from asking Jimmy about his scars, but from how Jimmy walked and how laboured he appeared when he was at work Thomas could see that his wounds were bothering him. He did not feel guilty, since Jimmy did not ask him either, though the scar stretching onto his neck was plain to see. Jimmy's silence on the matter did not bother him in the slightest, as he could see the motion of his Adam's apple, bobbing in sickness of` the memory.

* * *

"Ah, Mr Barrow, come in."

Suddenly Thomas felt as if he should be stood to attention as he came into the office of his former captain, who was rummaging through some papers which were in a neat pile on his desk. "Dr Clarkson." Thomas said as confidently as he could to remove any appearance that he was nervous.

"Well sit down Mr Barrow, and tell me what's troubling you." The Doctor left his papers alone and gave his former Corporeal his full attention as Thomas sat down, opting to keep his coat on.

Thomas had rehearsed what to say and even though his nerves were apparent in the way he was clutching his hat on his lap he spoke steadily, "You told me to come and see you if I were… having trouble."

Dr Clarkson cast his mind back, as it was clear that the under butler did not want to elaborate on this, and remembered his visit to Downton after the Duke of Crowborough's visit and the advice he gave to Thomas following it. "I see." In the past the doctor held little love for Thomas, but seeing that he had come to him with such a serious and delicate problem made him put all other opinions of the younger man aside. "Can you describe the er- symptoms?" This being the best way for him to put it.

"I can't sleep, when I do I have nightmares, I can't concentrate on me work-"

"May I ask, have you been drinking?"

"Today?" Thomas looked at him in a panic, hoping the Doctor hadn't noticed that he had been to the pub before his appointment and consumed, with Jimmy's disapproval, three shots of strong whisky to prepare for this consultation.

"Anytime since.. what happened. Perhaps more than usual."

Thomas sighed with shame, "Yes."

"Well you don't need to say anything further," The Doctor assured Thomas, "and I don't need any time to decide what to do about your.. condition. There is a psychiatrist in the village, his name is Andrew Landon, he's a good man, very trustworthy, and specialises in trauma. He treats all kinds of people…" The Doctor rubbed his neck in discomfort at how to continue his sentence without making Thomas feel discriminated, but the under butler skipped the absurdity of the older man's qualms as he knew the Doctor was no fool and what exactly he was trying to say and so saved him the trouble.

"He treats homosexuals."

"Yes." There was a pause; Thomas waiting for the Doctor to pick up the phone and call the police, the Doctor waiting for Thomas to storm out of the office, but neither of those things happened, so Clarkson continued, "I just want you to know that you can trust him, that is the most important thing, or there's no point in going unless you can be completely open and honest with him. Any road, I think you should see him twice a week, in fact if you tell me when you might be available I will call his secretary now and arrange it. It's not best to delay these things." Thomas told him that since he did not really have any free time as it was, he would be available anytime so long as it wasn't during mealtimes, and he would just have to arrange it with Mr Carson (more likely Mrs Hughes but the Doctor didn't need to know that). Clarkson lifted the receiver to make the call, while he waited for Landon's secretary to pick up he rifled through some papers in his desk drawer and, selecting the right paper, handed it to Thomas, on it was the address of the psychiatrist and some information about the man himself, his education and experience and so forth. From a brief scan Thomas could see the man was well respected in his field and for good reason, at forty he was at an age where Thomas would feel comfortable speaking to him, rather than if he were vastly younger or older. Such a thing was very important for a man like Thomas, a man with so many secrets, he needed someone he could trust and from what Doctor Clarkson said maybe he could.

Thomas looked up from the paper as he heard the sound of the receiver dropping back into the cradle. "That's sorted. He will see you on Tuesdays and Fridays at three o'clock. Here, I'll write it down for you," Clarkson took the paper he had previously given to Thomas and made a notation on the top before handing it back to the patient who glanced again at the writing, "In the meantime.." Clarkson rose and went over to the medicine cabinet which he unlocked with a key taken from his pocket. He turned the bottles so he could see the labels until he came across the one he wanted for Thomas, "Take two of these before you go to bed every night. They should help you sleep and…" He returned to the cabinet, "Take one of these during mealtimes, they should help control your symptoms during the day. They should last you for three weeks, come back to me when you need a refill."

Thomas thanked the Doctor, hardly believing he had put this off for so long, it was so simple, but the Doctor did warn Thomas that the process wouldn't be simple, but he did the right thing, and the brave thing by coming in. It was when Thomas was handed the pills that he changed. He suddenly saw that he was being treated, he was sick, the Duke had done that which Thomas had never wanted and had prevented all his life; he had become a victim. The Duke had made him into a victim.

* * *

Jimmy was sat outside the doctor's office nervously rubbing his thighs. He glanced impatiently at the clock, Thomas had been in there for almost twenty minutes. What could take so long? As if Thomas heard his thoughts he came out of the office, walking straight past Jimmy, who grabbed the under butler's hat, which he left on the seat next to him, and chased after the under butler. Slightly bewildered that Thomas just thoughtlessly left him in the waiting room, and didn't speak to him until they got outside.

"What did he say?" Jimmy started walking backwards since Thomas was determined to make a beeline to a shop across the road which held an extensive stock of alcohol which was of the greatest interest to Thomas. He passed through the front door, the bell rang followed by a banging as the door fell back into Jimmy's shoulder as he passed through it. The shop seemed to empty on their arrival as the only other customer exited, Jimmy gave the back of his head a dirty look as if to say 'Does our presence offend you?" Jimmy stopped next to Thomas down the back of the shop in the spirits section and, being mindful of the shopkeeper, lowered his voice and flitted his eyes back and forth to make sure the shopkeeper wasn't coming towards them to make sure they were thieving. "What did he say?" Jimmy repeated.

"I'm to see a psychiatrist twice a week." Thomas said in anger as he scanned the higher percentage whisky bottles, just hearing it from someone else, telling someone else, confirming that he had a problem, that there was something wrong with him, was hateful.

"Did he give you something to help you sleep?" Jimmy thought that a referral would be the consequence of Thomas' visit.

"Thankfully he gave me some pills." Thomas talking as if they were speaking only of the weather.

"But you're going to buy booze anyway?" Jimmy criticised Thomas, not wanting to mother his former lover in stopping him from getting it but not condoning it at the same time. Thomas answered Jimmy's question by taking a bottle off the shelf. "If you want me to come with you I will."

"I couldn't ask you to do that."

"You're not asking are you? I'm offering. I told you, I want to be there for you. If Mr Carson will let me."

"I'll talk to Mrs Hughes, she'll understand." Thomas turned the bottle in his hand unconcernedly.

"How long will you have to go for?"

"I'll stop going when I get better… if I get better." At the last words Thomas no longer cared what bottle he had a hold of as long as it was strong and alcoholic so settled for the one in his hand.

"We'll be having none of that. You _will_ get better, and I'll be here every step of the way. I promise you."

Thomas smiled as he brushed past Jimmy and put the bottle on the counter, handing over the payment to the shopkeeper, who looked at Thomas as if he could see the reason behind the purchase and smiled at him sadly, all three men thinking the same thing; 'This isn't the answer.'


	27. Interest

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**Apologies for any spelling/ grammar mistakes.**

* * *

It had been a week since Thomas had visited the doctors. He had met his psychiatrist a couple of days later; a nice man who was understanding of his situation. Thomas felt he could talk to him, his office was small and comfortable enough to make him feel safe, and no pressure was put on him. He wasn't asked any questions, the psychiatrist; Andrew, just let Thomas say whatever came into his mind. To the right people Thomas had a lot to say, and Andrew was a right person. In the hour they were together Thomas told Andrew some things about himself, and from that Andrew deduced everything, Thomas never had to say he was gay, he never had to say that the Duke had raped him, he never had to say that he was desperate for peace. Andrew knew it all from the snippets Thomas gave him, the way he wouldn't take his coat off, he wouldn't shake Andrew's hand or let him near him. The result was worth it. Thomas would emerge in the same way each time, leaving Jimmy behind without a word, even when Jimmy came to meet Thomas after going to buy a pair of shoes to replace the ones he had sabotaged. Fortunately Jimmy understood that a visit to the psychiatrist's was in itself an ordeal and so let Thomas start the conversation or talk about everyday things to demolish that same feeling of being held under water, but it was permitted as Thomas had this time invited it, as the end result was necessary.

He had improved in just that week; he had Jimmy and Alex, whom he learned to trust more and more every day, and in combination with the sleeping pills he was more alert, energetic, and happier; happy enough for everyone to notice the change in him. However this change also meant that Alex got longer nights' sleep which he was very grateful for, but Jimmy wasn't as happy, for Alex would jump on his bed in the morning, knees either side of his waist, and hit him with a pillow until he woke up. Jimmy vowed that one day he would already be up and turn the tables on the auburn but he could never wake up in time, Alex being one step ahead of him. Jimmy would have quit the running, but he found he enjoyed the company, and the attention from the maids when they came out to see them return in what Mr Carson would call 'a state of undress'. The blonde would also do nothing to discourage the maids' behaviour according to their new interest in him, behaviour that would not long go unnoticed by Alex or Thomas.

* * *

Anna and Alex were alone in the servants' hall, the former doing some mending of one of Lady Mary's dresses while the latter read a copy of Rene Descartes' _Meditations _in the original French. Anna was not surprised by this since Alex told them he had studied French for years at his 'fancy school', so she did not remark on his choice of reading material, but instead said; "Mr Barrow has been better lately hasn't he?"

"Yes he has, a marked improvement," The young man looked up from his book momentarily.

"James has too, I've noticed."

"Yes, he's been much happier." Alex smiled at the improvement of his friends, but Anna sheepishly stopped her sewing which prompted Alex to question her furtiveness, "What is it?"

"It's just that he's been a bit more… flirtatious the last few days."

"How do you mean?" Alex said in a view that was premeditative to annoyance at the possibility of Jimmy behaving in such a way, rather than naivety of it.

"With the maids."

"Who? Jimmy?" Alex said, disbelieving as much as Anna did that the Jimmy he knew was dallying about with maids and he hadn't noticed.

"Yes. Surprised you haven't noticed."

"Me too."

"Well it's there. It's taken us all by surprise, I thought after what happened with Ivy he'd learned his lesson and had settled down a bit, but apparently not…. " Her eyes looked past to see the footman in the kitchen cornering the housemaid Megan, "Oh see, there he is again, with Megan."

"Excuse me please." Alex got up from the table and pressed himself against the outer wall of the servant's hall to listen to Jimmy's conversation so he might identify the tone of it and decipher the truth of Anna's comments.

"You know you shouldn't overwork yourself, don't want to dirty up that pretty face of yours. Since Victoria's been away Mrs Hughes has been asking too much of you." Jimmy touched the brunette on her pointed chin. Megan felt herself blush, which annoyed her as she did not want to give the appearance that she was so easily hypnotised by mere words.

"You think I have a pretty face?"

"Megan, you are easily the prettiest girl under this roof."

"What about Victoria?" Megan questioned Jimmy's relationship with the former housemaid which had frequently provided a topic of discussion among the maids when they were hankering for a good gossip.

"What about her?"

"Come on, you can't tell me there was nothing going on between you, and I heard you wanted her to come back."

"Seems like she doesn't care about coming back, the time it's taking her to get here, not sure I care meself anymore. I don't feel that way about her, you don't need to be jealous." Jimmy motioned to tuck a non existent stray hair behind the girl's ear, but she shifted herself backwards away from his touch.

"Jealous? Getting ahead of yourself aren't you?"

"I don't know. Am I?" The footman raised a suggestive eyebrow.

Alex decided this was an ideal moment to interrupt this absurd exchange before it went too far. "Jimmy?"

"Alex," Jimmy felt the embarrassment Megan should have felt in trying to answer his alluring question, "What do you want?"

"Mr Barrow says we need to make sure we're ready for dinner." Alex quickly thought in a bid to catch Jimmy alone.

"What? Now?" There was half an hour until dinner, and Jimmy knew it.

"Yes. You don't want to get on the wrong side of Mr Barrow do you?" Alex didn't like using Jimmy's guilt towards Thomas against him, but he had to to stop him making a fool of himself and of the poor maid.

"Talk after dinner?" Jimmy requested of the girl, as Alex stood silently by, rolling his eyes as he waited for Jimmy to come along with him.

"Sure." She replied, receiving a wink from the footman who stared after her, all manner of thoughts and ideas polluting his mind at the sight of her slim figure walking away. Alex ended up taking Jimmy by the arm and dragging him into the store room for a good lecture.

"Jimmy what are you doing?"

"Can't I compliment a pretty girl?" Jimmy smiled in all innocence, rolling his shoulders forward as he adjusted his collar.

"Yes, but-"

"But what?"

"It's not like you." Alex said with an underlying tone framing it, but Jimmy did not hear it.

"You don't know me, and if I'm _not_ going to flirt with a pretty girl what else would I do?"

"I'm sure I don't know." Alex replied. "Just make sure you know what you're doing."

"Don't I always?" The blonde continued in his need to feel like he was perfectly sure of himself.

"I don't know, do you?"

Alex's hardened gaze perforated Jimmy's confident façade, breaking through to his scars, he felt them tear, he felt them burn in a sudden sickness of his return to the unashamed denial of himself, and lay a protective hand over his stomach. "Oh just shut up, Alex! Keep your bloody nose out of something you don't understand!" Jimmy cried, barging through the second footman like he were air, from which a voice cried after him.

"Then help me understand! Jimmy! Jimmy!" Alex implored him, but the blonde would not stop, nor would he listen. His ears only opened to the gossip at the upstairs dinner, and it was riveting, what with a new addition to the table.

* * *

"Edith, how on earth do you get anything done with such good looking men around?" Rose tried to whisper to Edith, but across the width of the table the volume was loud enough for everyone to hear, including the footmen, who everyone knew Rose was talking about as she kept looking at them. Alex and Jimmy, despite their run in in the store room, found themselves looking at each other in union over their shared embarrassment at the attention drawn to them by the young lady who had been sent by her parents to stay at Downton during their relocation to India.

"I remember they are our servants." Edith gave her cousin a warning look, reminding her that even though they are servants they have ears.

"I wouldn't mind them serving me more often." Rose giggled, already enthralled at the idea of seeing the handsome duo every day.

"Anna tells me they have quite a fan club downstairs. Alexander enlisted James to go running with him every morning and all the maids stand around the windows waiting to gape at them in their shorts." Mary informed the table, all the ladies' pressing their fingers to their tightened lips, as the footmen discretely scratched their foreheads to wipe the feeling that a nervous trickle of perspiration had dropped from their skin.

"Oh how exciting, maybe I'll have to join them." Rose exposed her gleaming teeth at the thought of seeing the two men in such a manner. If it keeps her away from married men, why not?

"Have you heard the latest on the killing of that French count?" Tom played the saviour for the footmen, who were grateful for having the attention taken from the idea of them in shorts, "They think his son, the one they suspect has done it, has fled the country."

"Where do they think he's gone? Not here, surely?" Cora asked in horror, like the fiend was going to storm the room right at that moment and slit all their throats.

"He was schooled in England, went to Oxford, the police think here is precisely where he's gone. He can just vanish." Lord Grantham played along with Tom's scheme to keep the conversation at a respectable level, but it was easy enough to do as he had been following the story in the papers.

"A man like that loose in our country-" Edith shook her head.

"His younger brother insists on his innocence apparently, that it must have been an accident, but I don't see why he would run." Lord Grantham gave the Viscount some defence before taking it away just as swiftly as he gave it.

"Do they put a picture in the paper of him?" Mary asked, not one for reading papers, not when she could listen to her family repeat all the more interesting highlights at dinner.

"No, even if they did it would be an old one from when he was at Oxford, most likely a graduation photo," Lord Grantham was saddened to say that that small measure they could go to to try and catch the man was not being resorted to, "no doubt he's changed considerably in the last few years."

"In a situation like that, do you think he would still get his inheritance?" The eldest Crawley daughter asked practically.

"Why? Do you have the same inclinations?" Lord Grantham joked but without the accompaniment of a smile.

"Not at all, I'm only curious."

"If they find him innocent." Lord Grantham started, wiping his mouth with his napkin from the soup he stopped eating, to explain to Mary the answer of her question, "Or if it was an accident then I'm sure he would inherit his father's title and estate, but while assumed to be guilty the inheritance cannot be claimed by anyone, that is unless he signs it all over to one of his brothers. While he is absent the law cannot compel him to, and as far as I am aware his younger brother, who is next in line and believes in his brother's innocence, will not use the law to challenge his inheritance, not while he is on the run."

"How terrible." The shared sentiment around the table, even by the servants, was given a voice by Lady Edith.

"We may have had complications with the entail in the past, but I would rather that than what those brothers are going through now." Cora recalled.

"Goes to show, that you can never really know someone until you learn the worst thing about them. A shame that younger brother doesn't seem to know it yet." Lord Grantham said, causing everyone to pause for thought. Mr Carson clearing his throat in Alexander's direction as the footman walked into Jimmy, in something of a trance at the depth of the conversation he was hearing.

"So long as we don't start playing a game of confession." Cora continued, oblivious to the stumbling servants behind her.

"I agree." Lord Grantham concurred, having one or two secrets of his own he'd rather his family didn't know about. "So Mary, have you heard from Lord Gillingham. Will he be staying with us again?"

"Yes. Apparently his valet- Green, isn't it?- keeps hinting that he should come here. He thinks one of our maids has made an impression on him."

"Carson?"

"My Lord." The butler robotically boomed.

"Have you noticed anything?"

"No, My Lord, dare say I have not." When it came to downstairs relationships the butler was oblivious, and happy to be just so long as they did not interfere with the running of the household.

"How about you, Barrow?"

"If I may say so, My Lord, he did take to Victoria."

"Victoria? The girl who was sacked?"

"Yes, M'Lord."

"No doubt he knows she's coming back, hence why he's pestering Gillingham to visit. That's not a bad thing though. Don't you think Mary?"

"I suppose so. He said about bringing a friend next time, should I be scared?" Mary asked her father, feeling like she had fallen back in time when she would be surrounded by suitors, how very tiresome it all seemed to her now.

"Are you ever scared?" Edith gave reply in mock surprise.

"No, if you remember; I don't have a heart."

* * *

The next morning Thomas went out for smoke, he managed to get an hour or two's sleep after waking up from a nightmare, but Alex was not there to help him through it because Thomas was quiet; he didn't scream, he didn't cry or shake. He just grabbed the pillow to the back of his head and breathed in deeply the cold air of the room, tasting the wooden planks of the floor at the back of his throat. The vividness was fading in the depth of his sleep. The ending began to change, he would wake before Jimmy would enter upon that same gory stage, he would not be there to read the Duke's script to his audience of one. What did it mean except that he was getting better? He pondered this, cigarette to his lips, as he awaited the return of Alex and Jimmy who had gone running. The maids were gathered just as Lady Mary said, but there was a new addition… Lady Rose. Thomas did not think she was serious during dinner the night before when she had cast eyes upon the two footmen and was unable to restrain her utter delight at the eye candy surrounding her, but her presence outside and her rebellious mingling with the housemaids set Thomas' thoughts straight about the character of the new lady.

All heads turned as the footmen walked through the gravel of the courtyard towards them, rolling their eyes when they saw the maids, Alex asked Jimmy rhetorically through an unmoving mouth, "Can't they give us one morning?"

"Morning!" The girls cried to them in their feminine squeals of flirtatious anxiety. The pair only gave a polite nod of their heads, Alex contemplating whether they should start wearing trousers and thick jumpers.

"Gents." Thomas nodded to the runners as they approached the only one they were wanting to see, "We still going to Ripon later on Jimmy?" Thomas having an appointment with his psychiatrist later that afternoon.

"Yes, of course." The blonde replied, wiping his forehead from sweat with the collar of his shirt.

"Oh my Lady, I'm terribly sorry, I didn't see you there, we're quite improperly dressed." Alex addressed Lady Rose, nudging Jimmy to take attention of the unexpected presence of the young lady, as before they had not properly looked at the faces giving them so much attention.

"No, no don't mind me. I'm just trying to find a suitable smoking spot where they won't catch me upstairs. Please, carry on by all means." Rose put her cigarette to her lips to emphasise her alibi for being there.

In acknowledgement of her order Alex and Jimmy went inside. Lady Rose watching them retreat, contemplating whether a hunt would be on the cards for her with regards to the footmen.

"Never mind breakfast, Mr Barrow, I'll have one of _them_." As the under butler remained silent, she swivelled slowly to him and seeing him up close now she could see that he was as handsome as the footmen, older men were more traditionally to Rose's taste and so she was interested enough in this one to ask; "Are you currently taken with someone, Mr Barrow?"

"Yes, M'Lady, I am." Thomas crushed his cigarette against the wall behind him, indicating that he was also to return indoors, but allowed the girl to finish grilling him.

"It is serious?" Not that it would matter to her.

"Quite the affliction."

"You make it sound like a dreadful illness." Rose giggled.

"It is, M'Lady. It is." After all the hurt he had gone through it really was, even if he wasn't sure at the moment just what the nature of his affliction was, though who it was directed at was plain to see.


	28. Moments

**Thank you so much for taking the time to read this.**

**Apologies for any spelling/ grammar mistakes.**

* * *

Thomas and Jimmy made their way back to Downton from the psychiatrist's office, as a light curtain of snow fell down around them, adding an unwanted romantic sentiment to their conversation. It was so beautiful and yet Thomas would rather it was raining, and had to make do with snowflakes settling on his stiff face instead of the cleansing sensation of cool droplets of water streaming down his cheeks, but no matter, when they got back to Downton Thomas could have a shot of whisky, which would do as much for him as rain. "How was it today?" Jimmy asked a troubled looking Thomas.

"Hard." Thomas replied, "Then it's always hard, talking about it. Thinking about it."

"Do you feel better though?"

"I feel like I've been held under water." The under butler stared straight ahead, trying to focus on single flakes of snow as they fell, but the task proved impossible.

"So, no?"

"I always feel like that, so it can't be worse, it'll get easier thinking about it in time. I do feel like a weight has been lifted off of me. I feel sort of light, but fuzzy." Thomas rubbed his pounding forehead as he spoke.

"Like when you've had a couple?"

"More or less."

"Is it really helping though? It's just that… sometimes, I don't know I may be imagining it, but you don't seem right a lot of the time; you're tired, distant. I worry about you." Jimmy hadn't the courage to ask Thomas before whether he was alright, but preferred instead to honour what Thomas would wish and ignore it.

"I have to come to terms with what the Duke did, so I can think about it without reliving it. To do that I need to think about it, so I've been… experiencing it more. It gets to me sometimes."

"Maybe you should ask for time off." Jimmy suggested, but sitting alone in his room thinking about his problems all day was even worse for Thomas.

"I'll be fine. You can't get over your problems without facing them." Thomas smiled bravely yet apprehensively.

"I just hope you're not facing them too much."

"I have me moments. That's all." Thomas shook off the implication that he wasn't coping, even though he partook in a shot of whisky every morning before work hoping it might have that same old placebo effect on him. It worked, as a hopefully temporary measure until he worked up the courage to tell Andrew about it, for he was too ashamed to say and risk hearing from him what he would tell himself every time he took a drink and shoved one of those pills Clarkson gave him down his throat; 'you're an idiot'.

"As long as you're getting better, and I'm going to be here for you. Always."

Thomas said nothing, the idea of Jimmy taking care of him was something he never imagined occurring, it was almost out of character for someone so young and immature and had proved that he needed taking care of himself. Thomas did not want to acknowledge Jimmy's offer, as he thought of it only as misguided childishness. So for the first time asked Jimmy how he was faring, not having to mention that he was referring to his scars.

"I didn't tell you, but shortly after we got back I went to see Clarkson, and took the stitches out a while ago, I can bend at least and run, just hard to look at, to think that they're going to stay with me me whole life, that _he_'s going to stay with me."

"Maybe you should get help." Thomas smiled ironically.

"No, I don't need it. I promise. Just wish they weren't there."

"I know what you mean." Thomas rested his hand upon his lower neck, the scar which was always visible while he worked was now covered with a coat and scarf but Thomas, for a moment, felt it was exposed.

"I know. I've got all I need right now; my friends." Jimmy smiled at Thomas.

'Friends.' Thomas thought, 'Not more? Not less?' No. Friends. A necessary part of life that could not be wasted, not when Thomas felt so vulnerable. Things were going so well between him and his former lover, so much so that it was troubling; he had been turning it over , in his mind it had spread like a plague, the idea of him and Jimmy reconciling but the fear was stronger. There was fear of going back to what was before, what was tried and failed in such hideous terms despite the temptation of happiness which Thomas couldn't trust himself to feel. A temptation which drew Jimmy in every day; like any animal in pursuance of its most base needs.

* * *

"That looks rather complicated." The youthful Lady Rose leaned on her elbow, which rested against the wall, her hand on the back of her head scrunching up her blonde curls. She gazed in a forced intrigue at what Jimmy was doing as he wound the clock in the hall, her real interest piqued by the boy himself whose features she scrutinised with glee, licking her lips at his golden hair and smooth complexion.

"It's easy once you've done it a few times. I was trained by an expert." Jimmy remembering the first time Thomas showed him how to wind the clocks, his hands on his shoulders, how he hated it then, but how he missed it now.

"Who might that be?"

"Mr Barrow. His father was a clockmaker so Mr Carson used to make him do all the clocks, but as an under butler it's beneath him now."

"He's very skilled for someone so handsome."

"Handsome men can have skills."

Jimmy didn't like this young thing giving Thomas' appearance so much notice, but it didn't stop the corner of Jimmy's mouth jerking up when Rose said. "I can see that. You could be in pictures."

"Don't fancy it meself."

"I wouldn't mind seeing your face on a big screen, maybe in a romance film. You would be perfect." Scenes of Jimmy in tights, climbing towers, fighting villains and kissing damsels in distress played through her mind and her lips produced a sigh, thinking of herself as one of those very damsels.

"I don't think I'm skilled enough for acting. Waiting at table is enough for me." A feeling Jimmy never realised he felt, ambition consuming a large part of his life (or so he thought).

"Do you get much leisure time?"

Jimmy maintained his pose although he could smell Rose more strongly as she leaned closer to him, "Leisure? What might that be? I only get a couple of hours off a week to go into Ripon, and that's on business."

"Business? What kind of business?"

"Nothing important." Jimmy felt immediate guilt at this response, could he have not thought of something else? Something that did not shrug off or belittle Thomas' toil and his courageous attempt to better himself.

"A girl?" Rose pressed.

"No."

"Do you have one then?"

"What?" The idea was so far out of the reach of Jimmy's mind the question was ridiculous to him now and would not hazard anyone asking him it.

"A girl!" Rose giggled, tossing her hair back.

"No. Not yet."

"Rose, come away from poor James. " Lady Mary announced herself as she crossed through the hall to go into the library with Edith, Rose doing as her cousin said and hung her head as she tip toed away into the library, Lady Mary coming up to a slightly flustered James who hoped the ladies had not got the wrong impression of him and his encounter with Rose, "I apologise for my cousin. She enjoys nibbling from forbidden fruit."

"That's all right M'Lady, no harm in having a nibble." The footman's relief could clearly be seen that Mary knew her cousin well enough to know that Jimmy did not encourage her except by merely existing.

"From Rose I think that's more than enough. Thank you James."

"M'Lady."

Mary left Jimmy to finish attending to the clock which just needed a gentle shut of its glass door, he looked at the face behind the glass, the second hand ticking away, as he looked at it and listened, it moved slower and slower until it stopped. He was gifted time, time to think, think about how open Rose can be, how strange he found it with girls again, but he liked the attention. Attention he will never have with men unless he does as Thomas did and managed to ensnare a Duke or some nobleman while he's visiting. However that didn't work out exactly as planned for the under butler. What else was Jimmy supposed to do? Wait around for months, years, decades, until retirement, to come across someone else like him? There must be one in a thousand in service, even less in the countryside, even less willing to come out, and even less still whom Jimmy could feel love towards. With those odds it seemed hopeless, even for Mr Green to place a bet on. Even though he felt guilt at Rose's flirtation, there was a hope that jealousy might spring from Thomas' confused heart at the knowledge, so he decided to tell Thomas just exactly how Rose behaved towards him.

* * *

"I think Lady Rose is going to be a handful." Jimmy said, having met with Thomas outside after his conversation with Rose, the snow fall had grown heavier so the pair felt they had to raise their voices, as if the snow was creating some kind of wall which made their words inaudible.

"Couldn't agree more." The under butler took the cigarette from his mouth in distaste as the heavy snowfall threatened to extinguish the embers at the end.

"She were proper flirting with me just now, when I were winding the clocks." Jimmy trying to put across his best attempt at disgust as possible, though it was hardly visible through the falling snow.

"You think everyone flirts with you."

"I'm being serious this time. It was the big toothy grin, the hair flick, the giggling at everything I said. There were nothing funny about it."

"Come on, it's not like you're not used to it." Thomas ignored the snow, on the contrary he loved it, he loved being barely visible, it made it easier for him to speak.

"I know, but they're normally older, or at least not as full on."

"Aww, poor Jimmy. It's a hard life being pretty isn't it?" One of Thomas' gloved hands came at Jimmy's shoulder through the stream of snow and pushed the footman back.

"What would _you_ know about it?"

"Cheeky." The pair smiled, unseen smiles, "I think Rose is a bit like that mind."

"Like what?" Jimmy not having yet heard the rumours surrounding Rose's character and her dalliances with older and married men.

"Flirty. She were looking at Alex too, and even asked me about _my _availability." Thomas widened his eyes as if to indicate Rose's insanity or, perhaps rather, desperation that she would ask a homosexual (whether she knew this was a moot point for him) who was vastly older than her, if he was available.

"She did say you were handsome." Jimmy added, "What did you say to her?"

"That my feelings were spoken for." But who, or what, seemed almost to be a mystery. But Jimmy smiled slightly at the thought that it was him, and there was still hope there. But both men thinking the same thing; was this what they both really wanted? So much had changed; _they_ had changed, was it all too much? Did they want to spoil this relationship they now had, now they were both happy and things were finally getting better, did they want to risk that for something that failed once already and so tragically over so short a time?

"Come on, we better head in." Thomas said, as if just realising that snow was pouring around them and creating a coat of white across their shoulders and hats, not to mention their shoes would need a good brushing.

"I'd rather not, she'll be making eyes at me from across the table, just you watch." Jimmy knowing that dinner upstairs would soon be served, but even he was glad for the prospect of a warm fire aglow, prepared just for his hands and reddened cheeks.

"Oh believe me, I will be watching very carefully." Thomas grinned as he ushered Jimmy inside with all haste, like they were about to be swept away by an avalanche. They only hoped this terrible weather wouldn't last.


	29. Changes

**Thank you so much to those of you who take time to write reviews. Especially to the guest who writes such lovely comments and makes me remember why I do this :) (I think you know who you are)**

**Apologies for any spelling/ grammar mistakes**

* * *

The dinner was quite a spectator's sport. There was dull chatter going on, which did not interest the under butler in the slightest, despite his superior's demeanour, of the usual leaning forward in an inert manner, showing only the most startling interest in what he was hearing. Typical. Even the quiet inane talk between Rose and Edith was enough to make the under butler shiver at how predictable it was. Upstairs life. How melancholy, these people, these women, had nothing to live for except the duty of marital life and the misery of child rearing. At least Rose was not thinking of such things yet, she had not yet taken to the single path that her noble birth had laid before her, it was unfortunate that the cost of it was the dignity of those around her as all men were under her scrutiny, worse, men she could not and should not have. Thomas passed the hour in the dining room trying to get away with pulling various faces at Jimmy and Alex, in place of words, hoping the three knew each other well enough now to form a silent conversation with regard to the underlying meaning of some of the ladies' conversation when the footmen were around, to Rose's hand movements, eyelash flutters, and gesticulations. Thomas thought he saw her wink at each footman not to mention himself and the three had to control themselves before the family who, even though they were almost oblivious to their presence, would become a personal audience to even the slightest sound from them. Like burglars in the night. At least to Carson, speaking or making themselves known to exist in any shape or fashion was comparable to such a crime.

Jimmy was having a hard time concentrating, spending most of his energies focussed on the under butler and trying to figure out whether his plan to arouse jealousy in him had worked, but there was no such expression in the variety of those he presented. Not that Jimmy was certain that he had ever seen Thomas to be openly jealous. Yet there was still hope, from their conversation before hope burned, the embers, those terrifying, beautiful embers from so long ago had come back, stoking a fire in the snowy winter mist. 'Damn them all', Jimmy thought to himself, 'Thomas will come back to me. He wanted me once, he will want me again.'

Thomas on the other hand was thinking something entirely different; 'was Jimmy pleased to have such attention languished on him from Rose? Had Jimmy really changed or was he still his old immature self? After everything had he still learned nothing?' Thomas' life had become an array of unanswered questions for which there was no book of answers waiting in the library, no passage from the Bible to counsel him, no words of wisdom from a friend except just to ask him one more question; did he had feelings for Alex? Alex. Alex. That young beautiful boy with a soul as pure as the brightest gold in the deepest darkest mine on earth. Was that a twinge he could feel? A pull on that rope binding his heart when he saw Rose look at the auburn footman? No. He was protective, but Alex could handle himself. It was Jimmy he should watch for. But why? Had he not watched Jimmy enough? Where did that get him? Thomas could not keep him safe, and what's more did not want to. He was tired. Jimmy's plan it seems, had backfired drastically, for our Thomas… had had enough.

Rose had made her choice. She had examined the options, considered it carefully, asked for the opinions of her advisers (in the form of Mary and Edith who gave objective opinions of both men; of their appearance and general manner) and had made her final decision. She announced it grossly to the select winner in the drawing room where the family gathered for after dinner drinks, going innocently up to the footman in pretence of taking a drink from him rather than wait for it to be handed to her, just so she might catch him alone, and said to him in her most seductive voice, "meet me tomorrow night, after dinner, you won't regret it". The footman was not allowed to respond, only nod in acknowledgement before he had to move around the room before Carson would have him whipped for slacking.

Jimmy had every mind to refuse Rose. He believed Thomas would come through for him. As it was there was no harm in a bit of flirting, (as Mr Green might say; 'it's good sport') but a serious proposition Jimmy had to think over. There was fun on the one hand, and serious enterprise on other which Jimmy knew wouldn't work because he was a homosexual. But could he really be happy waiting for pleasure to come to him if he won't take a woman and there are no chances for him to meet men? Would he want to meet other men? He needed someone; that much was clear. He needed that attention, to know he was cared for. He had no family, a couple of friends, but the fact his entire future had changed was overwhelming and he needed to secure it for himself. He grew up with ideas of marriage and children and now it could be forgotten. He was raised to be appealing to girls, to be the centre of any girl's hearts and minds, what was it for? To be mutilated by a man for the love of another man? The whole thing seemed absurd, an absurdity he had to get away from unless it survived for anyone but Thomas.

* * *

"Jimmy? You all right?" Alex asked him as they were all sat at in the servants' hall to wind down after the day's work, absent Thomas who was outside in the snow for a cigarette, but Jimmy was so restless he stood above them all with his arms folded.

"Yeah." The blonde replied, relaxing his arms to change the appearance that something was wrong.

"You seem down, I know what'll cheer you up; I have a bottle of scotch up in my room, would you fancy some later?"

"No… thanks."

"Goodness, turning down drink, something must be wrong. Quick Alfred, you better pull his trousers down while I get the thermometer." Alex chuckled, elbowing the assistant cook who was now allowed to mingle with the rest of the staff outside the confinement of his kitchen.

"Think you'd get in trouble for that." Jimmy cracked a smile.

"Good luck running to the police with a thermometer up your bottom." Alfred, much to Jimmy's surprise, joined in the joke.

"And with your trousers around your ankles I hasten to add." Alex and Alfred leaned in to have a much needed laugh between them at the idea of Jimmy running down the street bare legged in the snow, causing a blush in the footman's cheeks.

"Very funny."

"Seriously, what's wrong?" Alex wiped the smile from his face as Jimmy's sourness could not clearly be revived by his jokes.

"Nothing. I'm just tired."

"No run in the morning then?"

"No. I'll have a lie in I think." A good idea for anyone under that roof, not that it would happen. However having that extra hour in bed was a luxury, and now considered as a lie in.

"That'll be the day." Alfred concurred with Jimmy's thoughts.

"Evening." Thomas came in jovially, clapping Jimmy on the shoulder, "You all right Jimmy?" He asked, catching sight of the footman's stale expression.

"We have just interrogated him, but he refuses to talk." Alex informed the under butler.

"Did it have anything to do with what Rose said to you after dinner?" Thomas had seen the girl go up to Jimmy and noticed how vacant he was afterwards in comparison to how he was before.

"You saw then?"

"Yeah, what did she want?"

"Nothing really, just silly girlishness."

"With Rose that seems like more than nothing." Thomas said, but Jimmy was still reluctant to speak.

"Come on Jimmy, what did she say?" Alfred pressed the blonde.

"Nothing, just leave it." Jimmy sneered before turning from the group of men, who looked between each other knowing they had put their feet in it without intending to.

"Think I can guess what she said." In Jimmy's embarrassment and meditation Thomas could realise the truth well enough; having some kind of idea what it was Rose wanted and understood that Jimmy would likely be embarrassed making himself known as the young girl's new target, that he was a piece of meat just waiting to be served up.

"I can't believe he's entirely guiltless, no matter how innocent he appears." Alex commented, after the display he had seen outside the kitchen between Jimmy and Megan.

"What do you mean?" Thomas asked the question which was also on Alfred's mind, the latter not seeming to mind in the slightest that Alex had put his forearm on his shoulder to lean on him.

"He's been flirting with some of the maids. It's not like him, I'm sure. However if he's feeling so uncomfortable with Rose's advances, assuming she has been making them, he should snap out of it in no time."

"He used to do that, I thought he grew out of it." Thomas sadly recollected at the growing evidence that Jimmy was turning back into his old self, when he thought that maybe something from their time together might have sunk in, and now Jimmy was just going backwards. Thomas thought Alex might have been camping out in his head as he said that which he hoped to hear.

"It's probably just a phase. He's been through a lot; we all have our coping mechanisms. He probably felt lonely; you must know what that's like. Just give him time." Time, what time did Alex think that Thomas had?

* * *

Thomas lay in bed, deep in thought, the bottle of sleeping pills was on his bedside table, ready next to a glass of water, just waiting for his mouth to consume them, but he was not ready yet. He thought of many things, mainly he thought of Jimmy, Alex, and the question of whether he would ever be able to sexually function again. It was the last part that troubled him at night, as he lay there, thinking deep erotic thoughts, just because he found he now could, but nothing happened, not the smallest movement or change, his heart didn't quicken, his breath didn't grow heavy, his temperature didn't rise, and more importantly nor did anything else. Useless, hopeless. He reached over to the pills and took two, holding them in his open palm and examined them the way he did every night before taking them, as if he expected them to be different from the night before. He took the glass of water and took the pills in his mouth and swallowed them down with a mouthful of water. He lay his head back into the softness of the pillow. He chose his last thoughts of the night, he chose them to be of Jimmy, with girls, wanting girls, with no obvious interest in Thomas except for the latent hope that there might be a chance for their relationship again, but Thomas could not see what Jimmy wanted from him; more attention perhaps from the one person, the one man, who would and had supplied it? Maybe it was for the best. Thomas' thoughts moved to Alex, his eyes growing tired and heavy, but he could envisage the writing of Victoria's hand. Could he have feelings for Alex? Surely not. It was different with Alex, he was special, couldn't ruin their friendship, the bond they had, whatever it was. Like he didn't want to ruin what he had with Jimmy now. With how Jimmy was now, Thomas wasn't sure he could cope with all that again.

He yawned. It was so hard, it was hard seeing Rose being close with Jimmy and how natural it was, believing that's what he should have, especially now he was back to being all over charming, and what's more enjoying it. Maybe they had both moved on. Was it possible without even knowing it?

His eyes closed, breaths deeper. Rose was looking at Alex, whose modesty was a great virtue. He was a genuine, authentic man. A quality Jimmy had never possessed which Thomas desperately coveted in a lover, it was this that drew him to the Duke the first time, how open he was, how proud and unashamed he was to be with him, the same way Alex was. Why did things have to change? Things which Thomas wished had stayed the same, while some things were still the same which he wished were…


	30. Consequences

**Right now you may be thinking, if not before; 'hang on, is it just me are there three new chapters?' (Including the last one) Yes it is true, I just had a 'what the hell' moment, so there you go. Enjoy. Thank you for reading.**

**Apologies for any spelling/ grammar mistakes**

* * *

Coming into his room Thomas slammed the door behind him, throwing off his hat he went over to his bedside cupboard and took his bottle of whisky out and poured the contents down his throat, enough to fill half a glass. Just as he took the bottle from his lips the door reopened and Jimmy came in. Seeing Thomas with the bottle in his hand Jimmy made to wrest it from him, but Thomas fled across the room and continued drinking.

"Thomas, what are you doing?" Jimmy cried.

"Just leave it alone, Jimmy." The under butler ordered. They had just returned from the psychiatrist, but the older man had left his companion trailing behind him, ignoring his calls and his presence, only the thought of getting back to Downton on his mind. He didn't want to talk, he didn't want to share, he just wanted to be left, but Jimmy wasn't having any of it.

"What happened?"

"Nothing happened."

"Something must have for you to come back here, ignore me and shove your face into a bottle of whisky!" Jimmy snorted.

"I just had a bad session." The under butler paced, tapping his finger against the side of the whisky in time with his footsteps.

"A bad session? I don't understand you've been going for three weeks now and you've never been like this. What happened?"

"I don't want to talk about it. Just… just go."

Thomas slumped down on the floor against the end of the bed and dropped the bottle between his bent legs. Jimmy removed his hat and smoothed his hair down, taking an uncertain breath he stepped slowly towards Thomas, who was staring across the room to the base of the wall parallel to him. The look on Thomas' face was so foreboding that it scared Jimmy, enough to sit on the end of the bed, his leg just brushing against the arm of Thomas' coat. Thomas was in such a trance he did not feel Jimmy's fingers carding gently through his hair and coaxing Thomas' head to his thigh. The under butler closed his eyes restfully at having something to lean his troubled head against. Jimmy continued stroking Thomas' hair, this was all he wanted, to be there for Thomas, and finally he was letting him. He was so beautiful, even as he was now, so morose, so vulnerable. Jimmy moved down next to Thomas, the cold of the floorboards could not be felt by the cold which still clung to his coat. Neither would have bothered him, being too distracted by the warmth he begged for in the arms of Thomas. Jimmy put his arm around the under butler, who still failed to notice he was there, having his ebony locks stroked between the footman's fingers, then by his lips which pressed themselves into his hair. The scent was pomade, and of Thomas, more glorious than the most intrepid rainstorm. He kissed his hair. Soaking up the smell and the smoothness beneath his nose and lips, he was intoxicated by it, it drew his lips to Thomas', but as soon as Thomas saw Jimmy's face in his it all became real, he realised he existed, that what he felt was real, not a dream, and all that came through was anger.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" Thomas bellowed as he stood up, leaving the whisky lying on the floor.

"I was trying to comfort you." Jimmy said shakily, remaining on the floor, knowing himself that this was not true, and Thomas knew it as well as he did.

"Comfort me? More like take advantage of me."

"I wasn't. I-"

"Weren't you?"

"I was just thinking of _you_."

"Me?" Thomas finding Jimmy's excuse almost laughable, if there were anything funny about their exchange, "Thinking of yourself more like, as always."

"Thomas!" Jimmy cried after him as Thomas went away from him, placing his hands against the wall. "Thomas."

"What?"

Jimmy stood up from the floor, giving himself time to think of something he could say that wouldn't make things worse, namely that wouldn't make him look selfish. "Look, I'm sorry. I'm just really bad at this."

"Really? I hadn't noticed." Thomas said to the wall with all the sarcasm he intended.

"Your sarcasm isn't helping."

"Nor is your selfishness." Thomas whipped round, Jimmy stepping back at the hardness of the under butler's bright eyes peering at him through the duskiness of the room.

"I said I'm sorry. I just- I miss you. All I think about when I see you is us. I want that back, that feeling of when we were together, I can't stand waiting, not knowing if there is a chance for us." The footman took a step forward. His boldness was as much appreciated as his honesty as Thomas continued to evade the footman, rubbing his head. There were so many thoughts he had harboured which he had shared with Andrew that day, why it was so hard for him to walk back with Jimmy, to be near him. Andrew had told Thomas some harsh truths, that he was holding on to things which caused him pain, and before he could move on he needed to let go, he needed to let go of Jimmy, of his past, so he would be able to say to himself that the past doesn't matter. Thomas had never been able to look into the future, he lived from day to day, always. Consequences… never a meaningful conception. Now he was living with the consequences of his past and he needed to be free of them, and to make sure his actions now held no consequences for tomorrow. He needed to move on. He needed to be free.

"Jimmy, before you start talking about us again, I feel there's something I have to tell you." Thomas said in a more sombre yet calmer tone.

"Go on." Jimmy folded his arms. He had been waiting for this conversation for over a month, he could hardly believe they had been apart for so long, and he was going to pay close attention to what Thomas had to say, hoping it was something positive, but dreading that it could not be worse.

"I don't know how to put this-"

"Oh god, you and Alex." Jimmy thought out loud, letting his thought to be dormant paranoia slip out at the worst possible moment.

"Will you shut up about me and Alex?! It's pathetic!" Thomas silenced the footman.

"What is it then?"

"I'm tired Jimmy. I'm tired." Jimmy said nothing, but his features asked for elaboration, which Thomas happily gave, "I'm tired of being hurt, of falling for the wrong people, of taking risks. I can't take anymore. I can't be with anyone that I think will hurt me."

"You can't be certain of something like that." Jimmy smiled out the corner of his mouth, not sure where Thomas was going.

"I want to be as certain as I can, I just can't take any more risks. It's too much. I can't cope. I've protected you so many times, but if _if_ we were together I can't keep doing it. I need someone to protect _me_ now, someone who will make _me_ feel safe."

"Well I-"

"Don't speak. Just listen. I need to get through this." Seeing how hard Thomas was finding it talking so openly like this, Jimmy knew he had to remain silent or Thomas wouldn't finish, it was so important for them both that he did. "Since the Duke, we both know I haven't been the same. I have never felt more vulnerable in my life. For the first time I know what I need and I'm going to do whatever it takes to make sure I get it. I need to feel safe now, secure, I need someone to take care of me, Jimmy, because I am broken. I need to be saved. I need to be with someone who I don't have to worry about, who I know can look after themselves. I worry about you, I worry about you all the time, and I… I don't think you can save me Jimmy."

"Of course I can."

"No. You're young, you're immature, you know nothing of the world. If you were a few years older, and a whole lot wiser… but you're not. I don't want you to think I'm being purposefully selfish, but I have to be."

"You can't be saying this-"

"Don't! Don't say anything, please. Just say, if you can, that you understand what I'm telling you." Thomas was too afraid of Jimmy's words, that they would confuse him, make him change his mind, but he couldn't. He wouldn't let himself.

"I'm not sure I do." How could he? Why would he? It made no sense. Thomas was his. Surely? Jimmy and Thomas, Thomas and Jimmy, Thommy, Jimmas. How could this be?

"That's why we can't be together. I need someone who would understand."

"I want to. I just can't."

"I'm sorry, Jimmy, but that's not enough for me anymore." Thomas could hardly believe the words were coming out of his mouth, when Jimmy left it would feel like a scene from a dream, he would doubt all this. Either that or it would hit him just how real it was.

"You never talk like this, you're never so open. What's changed?" Jimmy's suspicions grew, maybe Thomas was doing this to protect him, he was lying to spare Jimmy the hurt of false hope, or maybe he did have feelings for Alex and wanted to free himself from the blonde so he could pursue the second footman.

"You haven't been listening! _I_ have changed Jimmy!... I was raped!" After two months, two long months, Thomas was finally able to say it himself, not just in his head, and with the words came a flood of tears, as that word battered down the floodgates with all its power and intensity, but now he said it, he could say it again, like he had never realised it was true until now, "I was raped." And again, with all the anger it was due, "I was fucking raped! After that nothing stays the same! Nothing! You're a fool if you never expected that."

"Are you saying then that… that _this_… us, is over? For good?" Jimmy's eyes mirrored Thomas', as tears coursed down his cheek.

"I think it is. I think it has to be." The under butler wiped each of his cheeks in turn with his gloved thumb stoically.

"I can't believe this. After everything we've been through; what that man's done to us." Jimmy still found he could not speak his name, not even his title, but Thomas could, getting used to hearing and saying his name being part of the process of moving on.

"I know. Michael's changed us. We're not the same people we were. You can't tell me you didn't have doubts about this. I know all about your flirtations, going back to the way things were."

"But I still hoped. I still hoped." Thomas said nothing, and Jimmy knew that was it, all he could do was not prove Thomas right and overreact and cry and scream in the way his heart told him to, but instead to just accept it, for Thomas' sake. "We're still friends though?"

"Yes. Yes. Of course." The desire for his friendship being one reason why Thomas felt he couldn't reconcile with Jimmy. "I hope you don't take what I said badly, about you being young and that, another man would love that about you-"

"Another man?" Jimmy's eyebrows furrowed. Was Thomas really telling him to think about other men? Instructing him to move on so soon?

"What?" Thomas not realising he had said anything wrong.

"Nothing." Jimmy shook his head to keep the tears from overwhelming his eyes, "It's just strange you saying that. I never thought about the possibility of being with another man. I thought it would just be you, that I changed for _you_."

"Well Jimmy, maybe it's because you never changed at all."


	31. Snow Storm

**Apologies for any spelling/ grammar mistakes**

* * *

That was that. It was over. Was Thomas right? Did he never change? Could he never be with another man? Maybe Jimmy wasn't a homosexual at all; maybe he wasbut only for Thomas. The snow rested on Jimmy's face, he left his hat in Thomas' room, hopefully the under butler would return it to Jimmy's, he couldn't go back and face him again. The blonde trudged through the fields, hands in his pockets, his fiery thoughts protecting him from the December cold that rained down upon him. The only ice was that which trickled down his cheeks in his tears. He couldn't stay out for too long, but he couldn't face going back to that empty room, even though he could feel his scars numbing. He could cover the one on his front with his arm, but the back one was completely exposed to the brutality of the winter night.

He remembered he was supposed to see Rose that night, she asked him, invited him. Jimmy didn't know what for, but he could guess. Why wouldn't he go? This was who he was, wasn't it? He would probably spend his life a lower class commoner, serving others, never himself, he could never marry, nor could he ever be with another man, as the only man he wanted didn't want him back. After all, Green was happy; he flirted with women, he'd seen it himself, even though he held interest for Victoria he would still mess around. Why couldn't Jimmy be like that? To hell with romance, to wilting roses and soft whispers and dreams. He was happy before, he could be happy again.

"Jimmy! What are you doing? Come inside!" Jimmy did not turn at the sound of the second footman's voice calling to him through the air, thickened with snow.

"Go to bed, Alex!" The blonde called back. Alex, wrapped up in a thick woolly coat, a hat and scarf, ran as best as he could through the four inch blanket of snow which trapped his feet at every step until he caught up to Jimmy, who was in no mood to run away. Alex unwound the scarf from about his neck and wrapped it around the footman's head as Jimmy neglected to wear his hat. Alex did not move, his cheeks were so red they could be burning, but he cared not, instead rubbing Jimmy's arms with his hands as he knew the footman was unwilling to move, he was almost anchored, but Alex would not leave him, but clung onto him still firmer.

"Jimmy. Please, come in." Alex shivered.

Jimmy turned and saw how the cold was affecting Alex, he looked into those beautiful ebony brown eyes and he nodded, in guilt at causing Alex to come out after him. The older youth's kindness was beyond reproach and Jimmy let him lead him inside and up to his room for a stiff drink. If Jimmy needed something to stop him going to Rose then it was this, and maybe it was a sign he should follow. He went to pull up a chair, but Alex, not afraid of familiarity, indicated for Jimmy to sit on one end of his bed, while he stoked the fire and draped his and Jimmy's coats in front of it. The pair apprehensively removed their dripping shoes prior to their trousers which were drenched from snow, and hung them before the fire.

The men looked so strange in their long johns while still wearing their shirts and jackets, so they removed the jackets, despite the cold bite as the fire hadn't spread heat throughout the room yet. Rubbing their cheeks and hands to fight the thawing of their skin, Jimmy adjusted himself on the bed until he was comfortable, and waited for Alex who took the other end. The auburn drew out an unopened bottle of scotch from his bedside cupboard, and two glasses which he had conveniently brought up earlier. He hoped to have caught Thomas before bed but Jimmy was deemed a suitable drinking companion. The men sat cross legged opposite each other, their knees just inches apart. He poured a small pool into the bottom of each glass, but he stopped Jimmy's hand before the blonde could take it.

"Nuh uh. This is how it's going to work. I ask you a question, if you answer I take a drink, if you don't then you take a drink."

"Been a while since I played a drinking game." Jimmy took off his jacket, and loosened his tie in preparation.

"Then you best answer my questions unless you want to be drunk under my bed." Alex grinned, rubbing his hands together, trying to free his fingers from numbing.

"Go on then. First question."

"Why were you standing in the middle of a field, at night, in a snowstorm?"

"I were thinking."

"About?" Alex said as he swallowed his first drink with verve.

Jimmy paused before answering, wondering whether the truth would open doors which should remain closed, so he thought of an answer which would raise few suspicions, "Thomas."

Alex drank his next shot in one, which Jimmy hastened to refill. "What about him?"

What could he say that wasn't a lie? Instead Jimmy put the glass to his lips and downed the dark liquid in one go, pulling a repugnant expression at the strength of it. It was like fire at the back of his throat. Alex, with a laugh, refilled Jimmy's glass.

"Are things that bad with Thomas?"

"Yes." Jimmy gave Alex an expectant look and took his glass; hovering it in front of the auburn's face, who seized it in annoyance at his foolishness, and drank, this time he coughed at having drunk a second one so quickly. "Next question."

"Do you trust me? Really?" Jimmy took a drink in response to Alex's question. "If you can't trust me, I can't help you. I want you to trust me, Jimmy."

Was Alex trying to tell him something? Jimmy was unsure. "What do you want me to say?"

"The truth." Alex indicated to Jimmy to take a drink, Jimmy didn't realise the game worked both ways but he drank anyway, not wanting to be unsportsmanlike. "So, what is the truth?"

Jimmy took Alex's drink, the latter not having had chance to pour Jimmy another. Jimmy's head began to feel distinctly lighter and he untucked his shirt, undid the top buttons of it, and his cufflinks, starting to feel very warm. He noted Alex removing his shirt entirely, just leaving him in an undershirt. Jimmy couldn't stop his teeth nibbling into his bottom lip as his eyes were drawn to the well built form of the young footman, and had to distract himself before he started to wonder what lay beneath the under shirt. "Next question then. Or are you trying to get me drunk enough so I'll just tell you anything anyway?"

Alex took a drink, not sure how to answer that question. It could work, but that was not how he hoped to get the answers from the blonde. "What is your relationship to Thomas?" He asked.

"We're friends."

Alex took a drink; it did not bother him as much as before and pressed straight on through it to the next question. "Really?"

"Why would there be anything else?" Jimmy took a drink because he did not answer Alex's question.

"Because Thomas is my best friend, and I know him." Alex handed Jimmy his drink and filled the empty glass which was given to him in exchange. At this point Jimmy couldn't understand how Alex still appeared to be sober when he could flop right over. What would Mr Carson say in the morning?

"What do you know?"

"I want _you_ to tell _me_." Alex took a drink and blinked exaggeratedly, Jimmy could now see the drink was starting to affect him too. "But it depends whether you trust me. Do you trust me?"

Obviously Alex knew about him and Thomas, or he was indicating he knew, he was trying to get Jimmy to open up to him. Maybe he should, his head had dissolved into mush, he could do it; he did trust Alex. If he did know, after all, then why would he say Thomas was his best friend, why would he invite him into his room, door closed, to indulge in a drinking game in the middle of the night, while they gradually removed their clothes? It's not that Jimmy didn't have his own suspicions about Alex, even Thomas said he was unsure, there were few men who were as familiar as Alex could be with other men or as disinterested in the women around him without being inclined towards men. Maybe he should be the one asking Alex if he could trust him? "I do trust you."

Alex took a drink.

"I do trust you Alex." Alex poured them both a drink before setting the bottle to one side, clinking their glasses together they both emptied them and Alex put them on his table so they would not get distracted. "You're such a fab- wonderful person, I was so bad to you, so bad, you never deserved it, ever. I don't know how I ever thought I could hate you. Who could hate you?"

"Alfred! Alfred does." Alex patted Jimmy's knee.

"Alfred's a moron, you'll see, he'll come round in time. Meanwhile, you're worth a million- no, a thousand, of him." Numbers had lost all meaning to Jimmy.

"Thanks." Apparently to Alex as well. "Though we're friends now, good friends I hope, it's still nice to hear you say that." Alex put his hand on Jimmy's in gratitude.

"We're best friends. I'm just sorry I wasted the first couple of weeks you were here through my stupid jealousies. I was stupid."

"It's done now. You've been through a lot, what with that nutso Duke. Hurting you like that. Is it any better?" Alex's eyes flitted to where Jimmy's scars should be on his body; Thomas having told him about them.

"Look." Without hesitation Jimmy took his shirt off, not something he would normally do with such ease, it must be the liquor, and he revealed a lengthy scar across his abdomen, and he turned his body so Alex could see the one on his back. Alex leaned forward and traced his fingers along the scars. Jimmy trembled slightly under the tickle of Alex's strong fingers.

"How could he do that to you? Is that what was getting to you?"

"It does, quite a lot actually. I know Thomas was hurt too, but sometimes I feel he forgets that I was also a victim… that I'm ruined."

"No, don't ever say that. Listen to me Jimmy, there's not a thing wrong with you. Not a thing, and I know Thomas worries about you, he tells me so. He does care, he's a good man."

"Not so much as you. How can you be so good?"

"Oh stop!" Alex waved Jimmy away, but the blonde grabbed his flailing hand and held it in his. Alex's other hand was set on Jimmy's knee. But neither man noticed what was happening to them physically as their minds were so clouded they could only see and hear.

"No, you're- you're so good, and- and gentle, and kind, and fun, you're just incredible Alex just… perfect." Jimmy had never been so close to the other footman before, how could he have not noticed just how attractive his friend was? His auburn hair crossed his forehead, the tips straying into his dark brown eyes that would melt anyone who fell into their gaze, it was only that Jimmy had never really looked before that he was spared. Alex was unmoving, his face still, except the blinking of his eyes which seemed to slow under the influence of alcohol. Just breathing, slow heavy breathing, stopped with the world as Jimmy's lips fell into Alex's.


	32. A Rather Interesting Discovery Or Two

**Glad to see I pleased you with the sudden flurry of chapters being thrown at you. Sorry that it's been a rollercoaster (I hate that cliche, so I'm doubly sorry for using it, and slightly ashamed :P) in those last three chapters, but I'm pleased it had the right affect.**

**Apologies for any spelling/ grammar mistakes**

* * *

Alex's lips were soft, Jimmy was surprised that they were laced with the tenderness of experience. Jimmy flickered his eyes open and saw Alex's were closed; seemingly in complete comfort of their kiss, happily the blonde reclosed his eyes and enjoyed the feeling of his hands running through the second footman's hair and Alex's tentative fingers upon his naked sides. Jimmy held Alex's face, flushed with warmth, keeping the older man exactly where he wanted him. He lowered his hand down to the end of Alex's undershirt and started to raise it over his perfectly formed torso. The feeling of another man's naked skin and his firm muscles drove Jimmy on, this is what he was missing, what he had been waiting for, and he wanted more. Alex's mind had adjusted to what was happening, and feeling his shirt being lifted he pulled away from Jimmy just enough to speak. "Jimmy, stop," He whispered. Jimmy only moaned in reply, not accepting Alex's words as anything more than modesty. "We can't Jimmy, please stop." Jimmy's lips moved down to Alex's neck and his teeth sank in, and it was when Jimmy's thumb graced Alex's prominent nipple in his desperation to undress him did Alex grow more forceful and he pushed Jimmy away from him and jumped from the bed. "Jimmy, I said enough!"

"Come on Alex, don't be like that. You were into it as much as I was." The blonde clawed at Alex's shirt, only to have his hands pushed away by the spinning footman.

"No, I've been drinking." Alex rubbed his forehead.

"So have _I_." Jimmy shrugged nonchalantly, now lying on his side temptuously.

"Not enough to have you in my bed; another man. What did you think was going to happen? Actually don't answer that I don't want to know. I don't know everything, but I know there is something between you and Thomas, or at least there was."

"'Was', is the right tense there. We're done now." Jimmy said bitterly, "Why didn't you say anything if you knew?"

"I wanted you to tell me yourself, when you would trust me. At least you're not denying it, that's a start. So what's the problem with you two?" Alex folded his arms, determined to find out just what happened that would make Jimmy act this way.

"He can't be with me, we've changed because of what the Duke did, and I- I don't know what I want anymore, I thought it was Thomas, but I don't know. It all just seems so hard, for something that barely existed. We've both been through so much that we've changed. He's broken things off with me for good now, and I'm just angry because I feel so confused about it, I don't know what I want anymore."

"There was something between Thomas and the Duke wasn't there? It wasn't all just because of a job he turned down?" Alex held this suspicion for a long time but never wanted to ask, the present circumstance was a good encourager.

"Yes and no. They were lovers. The Duke offered Thomas a job so they could be together, Thomas accepted but changed his mind… for me."

"I see… So you come and make a move on me?" Alex jumped ahead, not needing to know any more than what Jimmy told him. Disappointed that after all the blonde and Thomas had been through together the former would hop into bed with just anyone.

"Don't sound so innocent. You kissed me back. Actually on that… are you…like me and Thomas?"

"No. Don't look at me like that." He replied to Jimmy's doubting eyebrows, "I'm not. I like women, but I also accepted a long time ago that I was capable of being attracted to men; that I could have feelings for another man, and when it happens I deal with it. That time isn't now Jimmy. What was going through your head?"

"I wanted intimacy, I wanted for once to not be rejected when I want to get closer. I'm sorry. I saw the signs, we drank, I thought you wanted the same."

"I won't lie; I did, don't know if it's the alcohol or…well, you know you're good looking, and you come at me half dressed like that, it all factors in."

"You're hardly resistible yourself," Jimmy scoffed at the footman stood before him in a pose that as natural as it was could still be described as appetising, "I mean look at you, and the way you are encourages people. You didn't have to have me sit on your bed and undress yourself and touch me scars."

"I'm an open person, you know that. When it comes to relationships though I'm surprisingly shy, believe me if I had feelings for you I would _stop_ being familiar." At least this relaxed any ideas Jimmy had about Thomas and Alex's relationship, but didn't like that the other man was insinuating that their present entanglement was the result of some unspoken feeling between them.

"Who said anything about feelings?"

Alex was not naïve, but he didn't agree with the practice of indulging in sexual liaisons for no reason other than to experience pleasure. "What are you saying?"

"That maybe we should give in to our baser needs once in a while." Jimmy stood from the bed and stepped seductively towards Alex, the latter stood rigidly, allowing Jimmy to take a hold of his under shirt and place his fingers in the intervals between his buttons. The auburn footman swallowed anxiously, torn between his conscience and the ideas Jimmy was forcing into his mind which was already clouded by the strength of the scotch.

He had no time to think or speak as the blonde decisively kissed Alex, who tried to pull away, as was the natural reaction, but Jimmy quietened any rationality remaining in the other man's mind as he used his free hand to cup his genitals, which were decently sized. Jimmy took his lips from Alex's, opening his eyes to read the other man's expression.

"Thomas is my best friend." Alex whispered, still refusing to move, not even to take Jimmy's hand from him which did not nothing to dissuade Jimmy who was only convinced that he was doing the right thing here.

"Is that the only thing stopping you?"

"Right now… yes." The power of intoxication, the sudden onset of pleasure stimulating him through Jimmy's forceful hand, and the accompanying visual of the handsome blonde, ready to bend to his will, was a combination the auburn headed male could not refuse lightly.

"He doesn't have to know."

"I can't not tell him."

"He's moved on, Alex," Jimmy's breath was felt more strongly as he leaned in to kiss Alex's neck, "Do you want me?"

"I shouldn't."

Jimmy raised his head to place his nose against Alex's, using his free hand to stroke Alex's soft yet damp hair, "Sometimes you shouldn't worry about what we should or shouldn't do, and just worry about we want. Thomas will understand."

Alex's silence gave Jimmy room for some further persuasion; slowly bending his legs he kissed his way down Alex's toned body, the latter's eyes closing in torment and his teeth sinking into his upper lip. "Jimmy, we shouldn't do this."

"Stop me then." Alex looked down to see Jimmy knelt on the floor before him, his fingers on the rim of Alex's long johns. Alex did nothing. "You seem to have no objection."

"My mind says otherwise."

"Stop me then." Jimmy says as he rolled down the top of Alex's long johns. Alex not saying a word.

* * *

Jimmy woke up, his legs hung off the side of the bed, his head was leaned against the warm body of another, bare skin against his cheek, a nipple directly in his eye line. Jimmy smiled in satisfaction as he remembered what happened the night before with the man who he was lying with, the contortions of his face and how he restrained his cries while Jimmy pleasured him. Beautiful. Then the ecstasy of Alex returning the favour in kind, Jimmy was self- conscious after, because he could tell that Alex had done this before, he asked him; the auburn revealing that he had been that way with a few men, but Jimmy was the first with whom he did it without intention for something more serious to follow. Finally the footman felt wanted, it was a feeling he soon didn't want to forget, but as his naked bed fellow sat up and rubbed his eyes, the blonde tracing circles on the small of his back, did Jimmy's world come crashing back down.

"You know what happened last night can't happen again?" Jimmy's fingers stopped and withdrew themselves from Alex's body.

"Why not? You enjoyed it, right?"

Alex sighed, now his rationality had returned to him he only looked back on what happened with regret and betrayal as he thought of Thomas. How could he have been so stupid? So selfish? "Yes, of course I did." He said in frustration, as the enjoyment of it had nothing to do with why he was against it, and it only angered him that he was with someone who could not understand that, "It was a release, a good release, but we shouldn't have done it. We drank way too much."

"Yeah right, excuses." Jimmy sneered, his arrogance slowly returning to its former glory. "We could do this."

"What?" Alex looked at the clock, worried about someone coming in and finding them there, lucky for them they had an hour until they had to be awake, though Alex could desperately do with a run to clear his head. If the snow had stopped falling.

"You and me." The blonde resumed stroking Alex's skin which formed into goose bumps under his delicate touch, seeing he had such an affect made the younger man grin.

"What do you mean?" Alex asked in disbelief at the circumstances he was in.

"Just get together for a little fun from time to time."

"Friends who fool around sometimes?" Alex clarified, he turned his head down to the laying footman to judge the sincerity of his suggestion.

"Exactly. Judging from your performance last night it would be fun."

"I believe in friends, and I believe in lovers, I don't believe in one crossing into the other." Alex said, not accepting of Jimmy's flattery.

"Maybe you should. You did last night."

"Last night was a mistake." Alex pushing his fingers into his eyes, telling himself as much as Jimmy, "I'm just glad we didn't have sex."

Jimmy would have gone so far, if only he was certain that he was ready and not so frightened by not having gone that far with anyone, and having spent the last two months believing his first time would have been with someone completely different to whom he was sharing a bed with now. "Is that _all_ you're glad for?"

"That's all I'm permitting myself to be glad for."

"Come on Alex, it'll be fun." Jimmy whined.

"No. I don't do that." The second footman finally stood from the bed, away from Jimmy's roaming fingers which only tried to coax him into indulgence.

"Can't you make an exception for me?"

"No. I'm not sure you would really want me to either. It's reckless and stupid, and I can only think it would hurt Thomas in the long run." Alex used Thomas' name in hope that it would bring Jimmy back to reality and the absurdity of what he was asking.

"I don't want to hurt Thomas." Jimmy reflected.

"And we won't," Alex assured him, believing he had succeeded by bringing Thomas up, "but I have to tell him what happened."

"No, please Alex, don't tell him." Jimmy clutched at the mattress in earnest.

"You _did_ say he would understand. I just can't lie to him about this."

"Well, the thing is.. I don't think he would." Jimmy said awkwardly.

"What?"

"I was drunk! I didn't know what I was saying!" The blonde cried, getting in his excuse before Alex would shout at him.

"Wait, are you saying that you lied to get into my pants?"

"A little bit." Could he really be so pathetic to sink to such levels? "I was-"

"Yes, you were drunk. I know." Alex smoothed his hair back with both hands, bringing them to rest on the back of his neck. He felt totally and utterly used.

"Will you tell him?" Jimmy asked softly, his voice begging for mercy, but Alex slipped on a pair of shorts and his running shirt and gathered up his shoes, so Jimmy repeated the question with more urgency.

"Bye Jimmy." Alex kissed Jimmy on the forehead to show there were no hard feelings between them, and no need for awkwardness throughout the rest of the day.

"Bye Alex."

"By the way," Alex stopped in the doorway, despite the peace he made with Jimmy he had one message, one warning to deliver, "You try anything like that again, and I swear to god I will give you what's coming, sober or not."

Before Jimmy could respond, the door closed and he fell back onto the bed, his face buried in Alex's pillow, it smelt of the second footman, masculine but sweet. He curled his arms around the pillow, hugging it to his face. He worried whether Alex would tell Thomas what happened, how Thomas would react, what would become of their friendship. Most of all Jimmy worried whether he was doing the right thing, should he have propositioned Alex a second time, let alone a first? His worries dissipated, turning into something else as he felt something under the footman's pillow; paper. He drew the offending object out, it was crumpled so he straightened it and gave it his undivided attention. He saw he had not drawn out one, but several sheets, at a first glance they were all concerning the same subject. Jimmy didn't know what it meant and what it had to do with the second footman, yet, but it was very interesting indeed.


	33. The Risk

**To the guest who believed I was making a jibe at them about the 'rollercoaster' cliche: I never used to mind the cliche until _X factor_ came along and destroyed it by excessive use, so don't worry :D **

**Thank you so much for reading, and for the lovely wonderful reviews :)**

**Apologies for any spelling/ grammar mistakes**

* * *

"How good of you both to join us." Said Mr Carson disapprovingly at his footmen, who came in late to breakfast in a daze.

"Sorry, Mr Carson." They voiced in unison, taking their places at the table, Alex beside, and Jimmy opposite Thomas, their eyes glued to their places, ignoring the looks they were being given by everyone and the under butler, who was hoping for more in greeting than a cold shoulder.

"Everything alright?" Thomas asked Alex, concerned that the youth hadn't met him outside after his run and was now so melancholy.

O'Brien was quicker to see the tension had not neglected Jimmy, who was in a rarely seen meditative state. "Maybe they've caught something from going out in that storm last night." Little realising the storm had not stopped.

"I'm quite well thank you, Miss O'Brien." Alex replied, not including Jimmy in his answer.

"Well something's not right."

"Even if there was, with all due respect, it is none of your business." Mr Carson was prepared to discipline the footman, as could be told by his raised eyebrows, but he knew he had little right to unless Alex's hostile tone continued. For now it was justified as he knew what the ladies' maid was like.

"Very well," O'Brien continued, "maybe Jimmy will be more cooperative."

"I've just been thinking." Jimmy said, earning a hard stare from Alex, not pleased that after he had been so tolerant with regard to the first footman's actions that morning he was now practically being betrayed to O'Brien by Jimmy's cooperation.

"What about?" O'Brien asked.

"What if I wasn't who I said I was?" Jimmy said thoughtfully, keeping in mind to check the reactions of one particular person in the room, for whom this process was intended. "What if I lied to you all, and I was actually someone else?"

"Like who?" Alfred chimed in, as he set a plate of toast on the table.

"I don't know. Someone important, or famous, or a criminal or something."

"Well it would be very serious indeed," Mr Carson replied, taking Jimmy's notion quite seriously. "It would depend on who you really were, but at the end of the day it would be up to his Lordship, who would have to be informed."

"What made you think of that?" Ivy asked Jimmy this time, everyone wanting to have a part in this unusual yet thought provoking conversation of such an exciting possibility of events, "Unless.. you're… not-"

"No,no,no." Jimmy interrupted, not wanting to put any doubt in her mind that he wasn't talking about himself, "Were just something I read."

"What was it?" Alfred asked, he and Ivy were now stood together in intrigue now they had finished serving up the breakfast, both looking to Jimmy for his answer.

"A… book, can't remember the name. This bloke goes to work for a noble man, but he's not who he says he is, and at the end of it they find out everything."

"What happened?" Ivy said, putting her hand on her heart in belief at what Jimmy was saying.

"They let him off, felt sorry for him, and he did such a good job in the house that they overlooked his past. Didn't think it were realistic."

"You're quite right, James." Mr Carson said in between mouthfuls of egg. "In such circumstances the servant would have to be let go, whether he was good at his job or not."

"Thought so, how interesting." Jimmy stroked his chin, looking at Alex who glared at the blonde through the ceiling of his eyes, Jimmy took no notice and grabbed himself a slice of toast which he began to butter diligently, an arrogant smirk across his lips.

"Why is it interesting?" Alex deigned to ask, keeping his sweating hands, which rubbed together in anxiety, beneath the table surface. "What does it have to do with anything?"

"Everything, if it should ever occur." The blonde tore a piece of toast off with his teeth and rolled it around in his mouth, waiting for Alex's response which he knew, and hoped, was coming.

Alex wanted there to be no awkwardness between him and Jimmy, as he proved by kissing him on the forehead that morning, but he could not restrain himself from combatting Jimmy's arrogance and complacency.

"Are you so sure you're not referring to yourself in this strange analogy?"

"Analogy?"

"Then again, the sort of person you are referring to would have to know who they are to lie about it, rather than lie to themselves. I'm not sure if one case is worse than the other." The footmen locked eyes, suddenly Jimmy was afraid, he was ready to spill Alex's secret as much as Alex seemed ready to spill Jimmy's. In the heat of the conversation and the pressure of the servants' eyes upon him he, nor Alex, did not realise that he had so much more to bargain with.

"Don't talk so innocently." Jimmy warned the second footman nonetheless.

"I can do nothing else when you talk in such a way; so hypocritically."

"I don't recall having lied to anyone."

"No one except yourself."

"That's rich."

"Silence now, the pair of you. I don't know what's going on, but I should like to know by the end of day unless there is not another word of this sort from your mouths, especially while we're eating." Mr Carson interrupted the proceedings, since his looks to his under butler to intervene with his young friends had thus far failed.

"I apologise for us both Mr Carson, it was quite inappropriate." Alex volunteered the apology.

"I'll say." O'Brien said.

"I don't need _you_ to apologise for me." Jimmy's tone shocked everyone, especially Alex and Thomas, the former having more of an idea than the latter what it was about, but neither wanting to believe that Jimmy's attitude was down to no more than a bad night's sleep (or maybe a rejection).

"That's enough, James." The butler warned the blonde one final time.

"Sorry, Mr Carson."

Breakfast carried on without a word from the footmen, who gave each other disconcerting looks at regular intervals. Jimmy dedicated his thoughts to what he had learned that morning, from the papers in Alex's room, to how he had baited the second footman just then, it revealed much, but what to do with what he had discovered he had to consider carefully, and he would take time to do so. He may be able to use it to his advantage. Fortunately Alex gave him this time, as the footmen saw fit to ignore each other for the rest of the day; waiting for the other to ask what exactly happened at breakfast. He kept thinking; what could he ask for from the 'perfect' Alexandre? His attentions? Jimmy looked at Thomas. He felt a hand strangle his heart, a shudder telling him not to be so foolish. The tragedy was that he didn't care, and if he could go back in time he would do not a single thing differently. He loved the attention he got from Alex, he wanted more, what business was it of Thomas'? Obviously he would prefer for Thomas not to know, but even if he did it was _his_ life and Thomas had no say in it any longer, and after how he was with the Duke he had no right to judge Jimmy for wanting something similar; a little intimacy, only he wouldn't be as stupid as Thomas and get in too deep. No. No, Thomas wasn't stupid. He was doing it again, Jimmy realised; being cruel to Thomas, bitter. Damn. At least nothing was said out loud, but how long until it was? Either way he shouldn't feel guilty, he was moving on with his life, and wasn't that exactly what Thomas wanted him to do? What better way than to give Rose a message, as discretely as the one she had given him, and draw her away that evening?

* * *

"I'm sorry I didn't meet you last night." Jimmy apologised as Rose came outside to meet him in the dark courtyard, illuminated only by the snow reflecting the pale moonlight.

"Why didn't you?" Rose asked, she was draped in a heavy shawl, it was lucky for her that the snow had stopped and the cold was less gripping, but Rose was certainly hoping they wouldn't be outside for too long. "Hope it was worth it."

'It really was' was the honest answer, but Jimmy was not so cold, "I were working late."

"Hard worker." The girl stroked up Jimmy's arm with the back of her index finger. "Still, I'm glad you're free now."

"Yes.. I am." For the rest of his life he was free. "I am at your service."

"Well James-"

"Jimmy."

"Jimmy.." The lady giggled at the familiarity she was afforded, "What is there to do around here? It's so drab. I can't talk to Edith all day it would drive me mad, her going on and on about Mr Gregson, and Mary has a baby.. it makes me miss Matthew."

"Yes. He was a good man, we all thought a lot of him downstairs."

"So did I."

"So how can I be of service?"

"I think you know."

Rose gripped the arm of Jimmy's coat and pulled herself up to him, kissing him lightly on the lips, Jimmy did not push her away, in fact he closed his eyes, blotting out the feminine features of the young girl and transforming them into something else. Alex. Thomas. Much better, not right yet, more right than with Ivy, but improved. Even though he could get used to being kissed by two different people every day he could not risk his livelihood for something so small, with no meaning.

"If you're worried they'll find out you don't need to worry, it'll be our secret." She whispered carefully into his lips as they parted, beating him to the punch.

"I can't risk me job over a kiss."

"Who says it has to stop at a kiss?" She ran her fingers up and down the upper fold of his coat.

"Who says it starts at one?"

"What's life without risk?" She retorted, keeping her face as close to Jimmy's as possible without kissing him.

"Not that kind of risk."

"Are you telling me you've never taken a serious risk?"

"No." Jimmy was forced to recall the risk he took of going to prison for the sake of his relationship with Thomas, the worst that would happen to undergo a relationship with Rose would only result in him being sacked and perhaps losing some pride.

"Then can't you take one for me?"

"We don't all have the luxury of a safe future." Jimmy shirked her, not appreciating her assumption that she was so special that he would risk all for but a fling with her.

"I see." Rose sheepishly retracted herself from the young man, "I guess I've put my foot in it haven't I? As always." She tried to smile at her foolishness, but it could not disguise her embarrassment in believing the footman wanted her as she did him.

"I'm sorry M'Lady." At her reaction Jimmy felt guilt; he understood that it must be hard for her, that she must feel lonely, just as he had felt over the years.

"It's fine, just me being… well, me. Stupid silly Rose as always. Is there any way you could forget this ever happened?"

"Of course M'Lady." Jimmy said softly, "But I don't think you're stupid, or silly. Just misguided."

"I need a wise man to teach me." Rose quipped, perhaps inappropriately, but that is what Rose always resorted to; a man to save her. Maybe she had more in common with Jimmy than they realised. "Why is it so hard to have something normal for once? Why?"

"I don't know M'Lady. It shouldn't be hard should it?"

"No. That is the good life James."

"Yes. Yes it is." Jimmy did not agree out of obligation or duty, he firmly believed in what she was saying. Everything was always so hard. Why couldn't he have a happy relationship with Thomas? Why couldn't he have fun with Alex? Why couldn't he just take Rose in his arms and kiss her and everything just fall into place? Why couldn't it be? It was what she wanted, just as much as it was what he wanted. Worth the risk? The kiss he then planted on her lips answered that for both of them.


	34. Past Lives

**As always, thank you for reading.**

**Apologies for any spelling/ grammar mistakes and for apparently creating such an intense love hate relationship between you all and Jimmy.**

* * *

Jimmy didn't push Rose away, it was not like with Ivy, but when he went inside after promising to meet the young lady at the same time the next night he felt waves of guilt. He didn't know why. She was probably just using him for his looks, so he should feel no guilt towards her, and both Alex and Thomas said they didn't want a relationship with him, so he wasn't betraying them. Reasons weren't important for him, only the act, and he would do whatever it took to feel like someone wanted him, that he was needed because he could do something right, he wasn't as worthless as he felt. He would take a man or woman to realise this new ambition. He would deny himself, he would go behind his former lover's back, but there was one thing he wanted, one person, one experience that he might do almost anything to recapture; but did he have the courage to press his advantage?

* * *

'Where was he?' Thomas thought to himself as he stood waiting in the servant's hall for Jimmy to meet him so they could take their usual walk into Ripon. In the meantime he had to make do with Anna and Bates' company.

"How are you getting on, Mr Barrow?" The ladies' maid and her husband had been speaking for a while to themselves about Thomas' condition, as they managed to deduce that his assault by the Duke was more than what it seemed. Thomas, however, was in no mood to discuss his mental state, it was a stretch even with Landon, but Anna and Bates was just too much.

"What do you mean?"

"Just wondering how you are-" Anna said innocently.

"Yes… but why?" Thomas gave the couple a hard gaze, knowing the curiosity belonged to them both, not just the one who spoke.

"You're moods have been slightly erratic lately. I was just wondering if-"

"-Everything was all right." The under butler completed the sentence for her, not wanting to hear more words from her mouth. "I'm fine."

"Thomas, I know-"

"It's Mr Barrow to you."

"Fine, Mr Barrow, if you'll let me finish a sentence. We know what you've been through, and I know it has a lot to do with where you and James have been going twice a week. We're concerned."

"Well, don't be." Thomas said in a voice which matched his eyes. "You have no idea what I've been through, and if you did you would know not to ask me about it, you would know that I just want to be left alone."

"Thomas, we just want to help if we can." Bates said in defence of his wife who sat back in her seat.

"You can't and you're not."

There was an awkward silence, Thomas lit a cigarette, taking a quick drag to dissipate his nervousness, which the older couple now felt guilty in bringing about. Fortunately for them the assistant cook came into the room, wiping his hands in a cloth before sitting down at the table for five minutes rest until he had to start preparations for dinner.

"Alfred," Anna craved the new arrival's conversation to fill the awkward silence in the room, "have you heard from Daisy?"

"Yes, she's having a great time at the farm. According to Ivy there's a boy there who works for Mr Mason who she's taken a fancy to, and she thinks he feels the same."

"Well it's about time, lord knows she's chased them but it good to hear she might finally be on the right track."

"Daisy? Chasing who?"

Anna looked between Thomas and the ginger. How different they were and yet they were both at one time admired by the former assistant cook. The ladies' maid decided to keep silent, if Alfred was really so naïve then she wouldn't betray Daisy's feelings, whether they be past or present.

"When are you going to see her?" She asked instead.

"Me and Ivy were thinking about going soon, we were going to ask Jimmy if he wanted come.."

The chatter continued outside of Thomas' attention as Alex came into the room who, though he still felt awkward talking to Thomas after his affair with Jimmy, had to ask why he was still at Downton absent of Jimmy's company.

"Thomas, what are you still doing here?"

"You don't know where Jimmy is, do you?" Thomas asked, glancing at the clock.

"No, sorry. Has he not shown?"

"No. Guess I'll have to go without him."

"No, we can't have that. I'll come with you."

* * *

Thomas felt let down, betrayed, 'how could Jimmy do this?' he thought, after everything he said to him. Yes, things had changed for them now, but not to say a word, but to leave him waiting in the servants' hall, risking missing his appointment with Landon was just too much. Thomas looked across at the second footman, as they trudged down the road back to Downton, a light rain tapping on the roof of the umbrella which sheltered them.

It was different going with Alex, but Thomas was glad to have him there. He came out of Landon's office calmly, he had a better session than usual, he did not walk off without Alex as he had with Jimmy, but waited for his friend to get up and leave with him. Alex did not ask about the appointment, rather it was Thomas who opened the conversation as the mystery of breakfast the day before still had not been revealed to him, and he wanted to know precisely what was going on between his friends.

"So, are you going to tell me?" Alex didn't answer. 'About what?' was the question he wanted to ask, but did it sound too much like he was hiding something? Thomas felt thirty seconds was long enough to wait for a reply before asking the question again. "Are you going to tell me what happened yesterday at breakfast?"

"It's just…" Which should he tell? The truth? A lie? An evasion? All three at once? "I know. I know about you and Jimmy. Don't bother denying it." Alex could see Thomas readying himself to reply with lies. "It doesn't matter, I don't care, it's just.. I know what Jimmy is, like I know what you are, and I found it hard to control myself with what Jimmy was saying because… he's been flirting with the maids." _And more besides_. "I know it's silly, but I hate to see people denying themselves like that."

"Oh… right. I didn't know he was…" Thomas trailed off. He had to pretend Alex said nothing of his relationship with Jimmy, especially as it didn't seem to bother him, unless that was why he had been avoiding him the last two days, but it did bother him that Jimmy was reverting back to his old ways, just proving he was right all along; the blonde was a child and had never really changed from what he was. "But he said you were hiding something too; implied it anyhow."

Alex meant to tell the under butler about what happened between him and Jimmy, it was not the whole truth to Thomas' inquiry, from what Jimmy said at breakfast it might not have been what he was referring to, but Alex didn't want to prematurely believe Jimmy knew his secret. It could have been possible he found the papers in his room there was little reason for Alex to believe this was the case, or that Jimmy could figure out their significance so quickly. Though it was not an ideal time to tell Thomas what happened with him and Jimmy, it was the best Alex felt he could do.

"Thomas, I…" He paused and looked at the older man. He was ready to say it, ready to tell him just exactly what had happened the night before last, he had thought it over in his head, rehearsed it, convinced himself it had to be done, but the words that came out of his mouth were not those which he practiced, "I'm like you and Jimmy."

"What?"

"I like men." Alex closed his eyes, he felt so weak, but he was right in his first thought; now wasn't the right time.

"You do?" The question of why Alex was telling him this now would come later, but for now truth was all Thomas cared about.

"You've been wanting to know haven't you?" Thomas smiled in his guilt. "I like men _and_ women."

"Both? Never would have thought both. Lucky, you only have to hide half of yourself."

"Perhaps. It was hardest at the start."

"It always is." Thomas remembering the points of his own discovery. "Tell me." He bid the footman with questioning eyes which the youth felt he owed a response to.

"I was nineteen when I first realised something was wrong. I met all sorts of different people every day, and like 'normal' men I could look at a lady and think 'she's nice', but then I found I could look at a man and think '_he_'s nice too'. That terrified me. Not because I was attracted to men, but because I felt the same about them as I did women, but I didn't know in what way. Was I equally attracted to them, or equally _un_attracted to them? At the time I didn't know there were people who could feel this way.

I decided one night that I had to find out the answer, and so I approached someone, an artist I knew, who used to indulge in his fancies for different young men quite openly; his 'models' he claimed. We all knew better of course, and I knew it was inappropriate of me to go and speak to him but I had to, and I asked him where I could go and just blend in. He gave me an address and a dress code. I went, alone and afraid I went. I sat at the bar, watched, and waited. I didn't have to wait long until a man came up and spoke to me; my first enterprise. He was attractive, bought me a drink, we talked, then he asked me to dance. I felt I should say no; not being the best dancer, but I did, determined not to deter from my aim, and eventually he kissed me."

"Let me guess, you ran?" Thomas interjected, asking as a reflection of his own personal experience.

"No. Did you at your first?"

"Yes." Thomas replied, not thinking twice about whether he should or not, "Wish I hadn't, but I did. I were young and didn't know at the time what I was."

"I couldn't run. With the feel of him beside me, the music, the taste of alcohol on our lips; it was quite simply sensational. He asked me back to his place but I wasn't ready. He understood and we met again, we met at the club twice a week, arriving and leaving separately. We were both happy with the arrangement, he knew I was using him to discover myself and I knew he had other young men who preoccupied the space I could not fill."

Thomas was completely gripped by Alex's story, in relief at hearing such things from another person's lips, being able to be open finally about such an important yet damaging part of himself. "What happened?"

"I realised who I was, I didn't need him anymore," Alex shrugged complacently, "I thought he knew that when the time came we'd be done, but instead he seemed was biding his time until I was ready to go home with him. Our association ended there and then. I knew what I was. It was hard, but the hardest part was not to deny myself. I try and live authentically;" Alex bowed his head a moment and breathed deeply, before repeating his sentence once more, "I try and live authentically, it was excruciating to wake up and think 'I don't like men, I can't like men'. So every time I had doubts I went back to the club. I think they got tired of seeing me there. On the worst days, when I had the most doubts, I would confound them and ask men to dance with me. Then slowly but surely, the doubts went away."

"I admire your determination." Thomas said sadly, knowing men like Alex were a rare breed, to be so set to discover something that could put him in prison, but even Alex could say that maybe his risk was too great.

"Thank you. I keep puzzling with myself over whether I did the right thing, going back, even after I had it figured out. I just liked the atmosphere." Of course Thomas understood, he knew all too well how attractive the liberal setting was.

"You must be quite experienced." Charisma and aesthetics being the most powerful weapons for someone like them to ensnare other men, and Alex had them both, and Thomas knew that he would have been very popular at any club he went to.

"No, not really." Alex continued to surprise Thomas, "I was only with one person long enough to share everything with them, and as I said the day I met you; I'm a romantic, I won't sleep with anyone unless I really care for them. If I was much younger and less mature I'd think differently for sure, but I was happy just being with that one person in that way."

"Was it with a man? Or a woman?" Thomas asked sceptically.

"Damien. I was with him for six months, but he uh- he was arrested for.." Alex stopped, Thomas seeing from his downcast expression that it was a delicate subject for him, so did not pursue it, for he could guess what the rest of that sentence was. "Don't think I prefer men to women, " Alex told him, "I've had relationships with more men than women, but it was just the opportunities I was handed. I spent most of mine at the men's clubs, I just got comfortable there, I could call the bar tenders by their names, and I liked the authenticity. It was almost addictive, even if I didn't go there to meet men I just liked watching people enjoying the liberality that was forbidden to them everywhere else."

"How did he get caught? Damien?" Thomas wondered for Alex's sake, if they were caught together that would mean Alex might also have been arrested, either that or left his lover to his fate and ran.

"He got caught, simple as that." Alex choosing not to elaborate, "It was from then I decided I wouldn't go with younger men. They're just immature, reckless, foolish." Thomas could relate to that all too well. "So if you ever think I behave the way I do because I don't understand the risks, you better believe I that do, and I won't be with anyone who doesn't." Alex, on some level, trying to convince Thomas and himself that what happened with the first footman was just a one off, even though the under butler had no knowledge of it.

"I don't think anyone like us doubts the risks. Just some are more flagrant of them. So why did you come here? Must have been hard to leave, there are no men's clubs around here you know." Thomas knowing himself how hard it was for him to move away from Cavour, but once his last employer died he had to find employment immediately, and Downton was the best position for him to take.

"They uh- they found out about me, I got caught by the wrong people. So I left. Have you ever been with a woman?"

"No… well yes. I was like you, trying to figure meself out. But I chose to find a woman rather than a man. A lot safer. Soon as I kissed her I knew it weren't right, when I took off her clothes and I wished there were something else there instead of her curves, her breasts, and her uh- everything else," Thomas smiled briefly, before his lips inverted at his next thought, "I knew my life would never be the same."

"Did you do it? With the woman?"

"I couldn't. Not without thinking of a man being in her place, and I couldn't do that. She left, crying, because I couldn't.. you know." Alex blinked sympathetically, as Thomas adjusted his hat to bring it further over his eyes, brushing what he felt was a stray hair back under the brim. "Me dad came home, saw the girl leaving and came up to see me, I were crying, he asked me what was wrong, I thought he might understand, I thought I could trust him. I were always close with me dad." The mixture of fond memories and the experience he was about to relate could be seen in the clouds across his eyes, "I told him what happened, he said nothing, for a long time he said nothing. Then he told me to get out. Haven't seen him since."

"How old were you?"

"Eighteen. Lucky really, I got a job at a club, worked me way up from there really."

"So what are you doing here? I didn't think this is really your kind of place either, trapped downstairs all alone. I hate to make assumptions but everything about you seems to yearn for companionship."

"Because it's the perfect place for me to hide." Thomas cleared his throat and tightened his lips, he itched for a cigarette but the rain was God's way of screwing him over once again even in the smallest of things. "Don't know if you know this about me, but I'm a coward."

"You are no such thing."

"See this?" He took his gloved left hand from his thick pocket and held it up for Alex to see, not that there was anything other than black leather there, but Alex had seen many times what lay beneath it. "I did this to meself. To get off the front."

"It was a terrible time." Alex said, not knowing what to think, he heard of the horrors of warfare and the lengths men went to to remove themselves from service and Alex had always thought so little of them, but now his friend said he was one of these men he couldn't voice the opinions he once held, "Your measure to get away from it only shows just how terrible it was."

"I'm a coward," Thomas repocketed his hand, "but you're right, I do want someone, just no opportunity working here. I thought I could focus on me career and forget about it, but I can't."

"So that's what the whisky's for?" Thomas looked at Alex, not realising the youth knew about just how far he had sunk, "Sorry. I've known about it for a while, since the first night you stayed in my room and I had to lie in your bed with you, I saw it under your pillow."

"It helps me sleep, and to forget." Thomas tried to dismiss any judgement Alex may have had of him and his motives, not wanting him to think he was some out of control drunkard, but Alex had not thought that then and thought no different now.

"It's all right. Miss O'Brien said you used to steal wine, years ago, so I thought perhaps you might have the whisky to cope with being alone."

"I suppose it kills two birds." Thomas said lightly.

"You've got _me_. I'm not going anywhere. Not yet anyway. I know it's not what you want, but I'm here."

"No, I do want you. Very much. I mean… not like-"

"I know."

"Thank you, Alex."

"It's all right, Thomas. It's all right."


	35. Unwelcome Propositions

**Thank you so much for reading and all the wonderful support and encouragement that are given in reviews, it makes my day and makes me feel fulfilled as a writer and a person. So I thank you :) I was going to take an undetermined period of rest from this story, but I can't do it! :P**

**Apologies for any spelling/ grammar mistakes**

**Warning for sexual content**

* * *

Thomas and Alex went to straight to the kitchen to beg Mrs Patmore for a piece of pie that was sitting there on the side waiting just for them (if they could convince Mrs Patmore of that). Thomas left it to Alex to use his gentlemanly charms on the cook, bowing before her in greeting and taking her hand in his and holding it for just a moment as if she were a lady adorned in finery and jewels, rather than a dirty apron and sweaty bonnet. Alex didn't have to say a word, the cook was already suspicious of his motives, she looked into his dark eyes under the electric light, intruded by his hair which was unusually ruffled. However, this obvious rebelliousness of his appearance only served to sway the cook in his favour as she opened up her kitchen to the young footman and under butler, who sidled in behind his young friend, Thomas and Alex raising their pieces of pie to each other in a toast to their accomplishments that day and the truths they shared.

The atmosphere lost its calmness when Jimmy entered, searching for the same thing that his colleagues had soundly beaten him to. When he saw them, gorging themselves on pie (_his_ pie), his first reaction was to say 'nice to see you waited for me', but when he saw how they looked back at him, he knew what he had forgotten. Jimmy would have liked to explain, but what explanation could he give other than that he had forgotten because he was selfish and too busy thinking about Alex and Rose? Thomas dropped his pie back in the dish, having lost his appetite at the sight of the perfectly polished blonde footman, and went out of the room. Alex did not move, he felt Thomas had left but was waiting for Jimmy's movements. He could not have words with him here, and he wanted to see if the blonde would offer up an explanation first. Instead Jimmy turned and went out the same way he came, hoping that perhaps with his retrace he could turn back time itself. Alex replaced the pie in the dish and followed Jimmy out, chasing him upstairs, taking two steps at a time. On the stairwell Alex grabbed Jimmy's sleeve.

"What do you want, Alex?" Jimmy asked, like he had no idea the second footman was chasing him.

"How could you forget?"

"I didn't mean to-"

"That doesn't matter. Don't you understand how important this is to Thomas? And you told him you'd be there!"

"I know. It's just that after what happened with us I've…" _Should I tell him what I found?_ "I've had a lot on me mind."

"I know, so have I," Alex assured him, "That's why I can tolerate what happened at breakfast the other day, but not this. You know what he's like; you can't promise him something and then break it."

"I know. I _do_ _know_ Thomas. I used to be with him once, remember?"

"Don't remind me, it only makes me feel guilty about our drunken… whatever it was."

Both were silent on this, as much as neither man wanted to think of their mistake, when they did they tried not to put Thomas in the same picture, as it only sickened them, and had to keep reminding themselves that they were drunk and it meant nothing. As indifferent as Jimmy tried to appear and feel about the whole matter he did feel treacherous, but not nearly as much as Alex.

"So how did he get on?" Jimmy asked.

"He's getting there."

"Annoying when he leaves you in there though isn't it? He just walks out." Jimmy laughed, not minding being able to talk about it with someone else, putting a bright side on it all. Alex didn't want Jimmy to feel bad that Thomas didn't leave him, so just gave a hum in response. "So…" Jimmy scratched his neck at what he was going to ask, "Did you-"

"No. I didn't tell him." Alex knowing the itch that suddenly came up on the back of Jimmy's neck was his curiosity tickling him. "I couldn't. I can tell it would hurt him, I can't hurt him like that over that mistake. I might tell him one day, but not now. Not when he's the way he is. He's starting to talk more, be more open, if he finds this out then he'll just clam up again."

"Glad you saw sense." Jimmy rubbed it in in an inappropriately 'told you so' manner.

"Don't talk about sense when it comes to this, there was no sense in it at all. I'd rather forget all about it." Alex folded his arms in an interrogatory way, as he was determined to change the subject, "What's going on with you and Rose anyhow?"

"Mind your own business."

"Don't make it my business then." Alex warned, as he thought Rose was the reason why Jimmy forgot to accompany Thomas that day, having seen the chemistry (on one side at least) between the footman and the young lady. Also if Jimmy was in fact determined, as he stated previously, to have a sexual affair with Alex, then that made it his business to ask.

"I can make it your business if you want." Jimmy played into Alex's assumption, "Just come upstairs with me. I'll forget about her for you."

"What are you doing?" Alex seized the outstretched hand which came towards his face, aiming to touch his skin with light fingertips. Jimmy twisted his hand in Alex's loose grip, so he could coil his fingers about his wrist and trace circles on the inside of it with his thumb, taking a step down so he was on even footing with Alex and could look straight into his mesmerising eyes.

"Thomas thinks he didn't change me, but he did, I'm not afraid now to take what I want. I'm probably going to spend the rest of me life alone, so why not indulge in pleasure while I can?"

Alex shook his head in denial, allowing Jimmy, in what he could see was a sensitive time for him, to fondle at the skin on his hand and wrist. "You won't spend your life alone."

"Certainly feels that way." Jimmy said. The mature conviction at which he spoke dampened the loathing Alex could have felt for him in his attempt at seduction.

"You won't. I don't know what's happened to you, I know you've been through a whole lot of shit, but what you're doing now… you're destroying yourself." Alex dared to put a comforting hand on the side of the blonde's neck.

Jimmy smiled, moving in closer, thinking he was getting somewhere through the tender physical contact he was being offered. "Alex, come on. Don't go all nice on me."

"What else can I do?"

"Be naughty. I know you can." The papers he found in Alex's room came to his mind, as he believed he knew what Alex's connection was to them, it should worry him but it didn't, it only gave him proof that Alex was not as perfect as he seemed, and that he could be turned to vice with a little persuasion.

"I'd rather advise you to keep away from Rose, and anything of that sort. It'll only bring you trouble."

"Change me mind." Jimmy dared him, pressing his chest into Alex's, the auburn restraining himself from taking a step back downstairs away from Jimmy, not wanting to show the blonde's childishness warranted a reaction, but he didn't want to rise to the challenge and change his mind about Rose by taking him upstairs while they had twenty minutes before anyone noticed their absence.

"I thought the prospect of getting sacked would be enough to change anyone's mind."

The feel of Alex's breath upon his lips was enough to keep Jimmy from saying yes. "Not mine. Make me a better offer."

"I'm not offering you anything."

"I might be able to change your mind."

"I don't think so."

"I think you will." Jimmy raised his eyebrows in certainty, while Alex cocked his head in intrigue. He would have folded his arms if Jimmy's body wasn't there to block them, "How about those papers that you so discretely hid under the pillow in your room?"

"I don't know what you mean." Alex responded shakily, Jimmy seeing the fear in his eyes, but also hearing the doubt in his voice that perhaps Jimmy was not smart enough to figure out Alex's connection to the papers.

"Sure you do… Alex. Or should I use your real name?"

Alex closed his mouth and inhaled sharply, biting his lip, hoping it might bleed just to provide an excuse for him to leave, but it didn't, as he knew that Jimmy was smarter than he had planned. "Are you trying to blackmail me?"

"No, just… persuading you to see things from a new perspective." Jimmy breathed into Alex's lips, which parted slightly at the intensity of the younger footman's proximity, and despite his ill intention Alex's mind flitted back to the night they shared in his room, and it provided him with a temptation which he must not give in to.

"What are you persuading me into exactly? Sex? A relationship? What?"

"Just your attentions." Jimmy shrugged, like he was making a completely reasonable request.

"If I refuse such a nauseating offer?"

"I tell Thomas about you, about who you really are. Actually I could tell everyone for that matter. I'm sure they'd love to know." Jimmy said menacingly.

"They won't believe you." Alex wished he could believe that himself, but he had to say it.

"I think they will. You were foolish to keep those papers."

"It's all that remains of my past."

"All that… destroyed your past wouldn't you say? I must say you are the best liar I've ever come across, you and Thomas would be perfect for each other." Jimmy said with a hint of spite.

"Shut up!" Alex hissed. "I'm surprised, you know what you know and yet you will try and blackmail me." Alex said in a tone that had not yet been heard from his lips; sinisterly. But he spoke quietly as he remembered where they were and someone could come along at any moment, specifically O'Brien, or even Thomas, either would be as bad as each other… strangely.

"Are you threatening me?" Jimmy smiled, he knew now that he had hit a nerve, he had leverage over the footman, he could have whatever he desired from him. Knowledge is power, and power is the perfect medicine.

"Not at all, I just think it's strange." Alex replied, trying to maintain his composure, but he was breaking down and fast.

"So, what do you say?" Jimmy tried to coax Alex into submission with a light touch of his thumb against his cheek.

"What? To having sex with you whenever you choose? Being your little bitch indefinitely? I don't think so. If you tell Thomas or anyone, I will tell them about you and Rose."

"Think anyone will believe you after I tell them what I know, that you have been lying all along?"

"You make me sick." Alex spat, knowing that Jimmy was telling the truth. Smart little boy.

"_I_ make _you_ sick? Really? Angelic, perfect, Alexandre. Or should I say-"

"Enough! Enough. It's clear you know everything, especially after what happened yesterday at breakfast. I'm not going to deny it, but you don't understand and don't pretend you do, but I don't believe for a moment you will say anything, because I think you would have already." Alex countered, waiting impatiently for Jimmy to answer. "Tell me I'm wrong."

"I don't think you can take that risk."

Alex's mouth contorted in a prelude to tears, the second footman was normally a calm character, which gave Jimmy all the more proof that he could ask Alex whatever he wanted of him and he would have no choice but to comply. "Give me time to think, and I'll give you my answer tonight. You have my word."

Jimmy grinned, but he didn't want to give Alex time to wheedle out of this, not when there was so much to be gained from it. "Very well, but I want something now, call it a gesture of good faith."

Alex didn't want to ask, he blinked, waiting for Jimmy to tell him what gesture he could possibly give. He didn't want to assume any more than he wanted to put ideas in his head, but those ideas were already there. Jimmy put his forearm on Alex's shoulder, taking his face in the other hand he kissed the auburn on the lips. Alex tightened his face in loathing of what he was being forced into. A tear snuck out from his closed eyes and gave away to Jimmy just how helpless he was. The blonde had no pity, no mercy but continued kissing Alex's now moist face, kissing away his tears, feeling his firm muscles through his clothes and the warmth of his body in the winter cold. He wanted a taste of what they experienced before, right here, right now, under the threat of being caught. Jimmy undid his trousers, Alex heard them go, he was still, he let his hand be taken by Jimmy's and placed upon the younger man's erection, he could feel the blood surging through it beneath his touch which reluctantly tightened. Jimmy buried his face into Alex's neck as he felt the older man begin to pump him steadily. A burning sensation of pleasure swarmed his body, making him tremble, his knees weakened, he fell on Alex, pushing his back up flush against the wall. Jimmy cupped Alex's soft genitals through his trousers with one hand while the other was kept on the wall in front of him, while his lips caressed the skin of Alex's neck. Alex kept his eyes to the ceiling, his face locked into an expression of utter dejection, as he felt Jimmy's moans vibrating against his neck. He did what he had to to save himself, and quickening the pace of his well- practiced hand, brought Jimmy into the deviously conceived climax he had been so desperate for, right there in the stairwell.

* * *

"Hey handsome." Rose stood outside waiting for Jimmy. The weather favoured them, the rain stopped but it was too cold for anyone to venture outside and overhear them. Rose's continued presence in the back courtyard was common knowledge, though Mr Carson alone was not informed else he would no doubt tell his Lordship of it. Jimmy promised Rose to meet her, when she whispered to him again in the drawing room after dinner to meet her there. Jimmy could not refuse, not after the night before, after he had kissed her. Of course he would ignore Alex's advice, the second footman was in no position to give him advice after what Jimmy had discovered about him. At that moment Jimmy felt invincible, he knew it was only a matter of time until Alex came around to his wishes, and Rose was in the palm of his hand. Alex said he would give his answer tonight, so Jimmy could think of what he wanted in exchange for his silence. What a pleasurable day this would turn out to be. He didn't need Thomas, what was Thomas talking about anyway? Jimmy could take care of himself. That was until he heard what Rose had to say. "I enjoyed last night. Got the impression you did too."

Jimmy leaned against the wall, Rose biting her bottom lip in prospect of what she hoped was to come; a kiss from the footman, little did she know that his lips had already been on another's that day, and his blood was still rushing wildly through his body at the memory.

"I've been thinking about it all day, not much else to do." Rose rolled her eyes wearily, having exhausted the immediate points of interest around Downton in her first few days and now she was finding it hard to occupy herself.

"You could help me polish silver, or I could teach you to wind clocks." Jimmy joked.

Rose giggling, tossing a curl back off her forehead, said, "Not sure that's something I'd ever need to know."

"Just a thought."

"I've had another thought." She said impishly.

"What's that?"

"Is there anywhere private... where we could be alone?"

"Don't know, probably out in the grounds somewhere, a guest bedroom or a laundry cupboard. Why?"

"Just so we can be alone… together." Rose whispered into Jimmy's ear, brushing her lips against it suggestively, but Jimmy was confident in playing hard to get after his success earlier that day.

"What for?"

"Come on, Jimmy." The girl kissed along Jimmy's face, meeting his lips finally.

"If we got caught-"

"We won't. Live a little, Jimmy." She wrapped her arms about his neck, Jimmy used the dark to hide the fact his eyes kept looking to the back door to make sure no one was coming out of it and might see them there. "Do you want me?"

"Yes." Jimmy partly lied. "I just need to think about it."

"Well… let me know." Rose kissed him on the cheek, "Good night." She waved to him as she returned indoors, leaving the footman out in the cold. Jimmy thought it may soon snow again.

When it came to losing his virginity, Jimmy thought he would lose it to Thomas realistically, or to Alex, though he wasn't sure he wanted to lose his virginity to someone he blackmailed into it. But a girl! It would be like officially moving on. From Thomas, from that whole unfortunate time of his life, the time of confusion; believing he was a homosexual. Was he ready for that? He wanted to talk to Thomas, like they would talk in the old days, like when Thomas talked to him about the Duke when he visited, but how could he without telling him that he's denying himself but making up for it by keeping Alex in the wings? That he's putting his job on the line for a dalliance he knew himself wasn't right? But it was what he needed. That was something he couldn't explain, and not even Thomas would understand.

* * *

**Sorry, I know it horrible of me because I haven't revealed what Alex's secret is, but I'm hoping that you might have formed some ideas yourselves about what it is. I have left hints, but I personally think (sorry if I'm wrong) there will be more satisfaction if I allow you time to guess for yourselves. The truth will be revealed very soon though, I promise. I also apologise if I make you all want to punch Jimmy in the neck just a little bit (or a lot :P). **


	36. The Answer

**Thank you for reading, I know this is getting messy, and I'm afraid it doesn't get much better, but I hope the messiness makes for enjoyable reading :)**

**Apologies for any spelling/ grammar mistakes**

* * *

Why didn't Jimmy tell anyone? Why couldn't he do it? Perhaps he just didn't want to. He cared about Alex, he didn't want to believe that everything he read, everything he believed about the second footman was true. He shared with Alex; he was the first man with whom he had ever shared more than a kiss, who had ever seen him naked, who had every part of his body under Jimmy's lips. Now Jimmy had blackmailed him, he had ruined their friendship, and any chance he had of any kind of serious sexual endeavour with the handsome second footman. He was truly desperate. He still had Rose, Jimmy kept his options open there. He faltered with Alex. He could have had sex with Alex if he wanted it, so why didn't he? He had to lose his virginity at some point. Why not to a noble woman? She was pretty after all. She was no Alex, no Thomas, but she was someone he felt he could trust, and maybe even like, she was nice and they had things in common. Why not?

He was ready. He wanted it, he needed it, the half bottle of whisky he snuck into Thomas' room to pilfer, now spilling through his system, told him as much. There she was stood, waiting for him, in the dimly lit guest room, she wore a thin floor length night dress, leaving little to the imagination. Everyone in the house was asleep, the late hour saw to that, only Jimmy and the young lady remained awake, ready for a night of intense pleasure. Though Jimmy wanted it, it was difficult for him to commit when he could not walk in a straight line. He sucked in his breath and walked as slowly and proudly as he could under the circumstances. If the young lady noticed Jimmy's incapacity she did not say so, even though he could not disguise the hard hitting smell of liquor which wafted under her nose as she tip toed up to the footman and planted a small supple kiss on his pert lips in greeting. Taking his sweating hands in her small ones she led him over to the bed. She sat down, waiting for him to manoeuvre her back onto the mattress whilst she undid his dressing gown.

Jimmy looked at her. She was so very pretty; he always found it strange that ladies got dressed to go to bed, spending time on their hair of all things. In this instance it would be understandable, but Jimmy thought Rose shouldn't have bothered, his vision was slightly blurred and he wouldn't be thinking of her when they got down to it. His eyes looked down her nightdress, her breasts in proportion with her slender body. Why wouldn't Jimmy want her? The answer was obvious and it only made him more nauseous. Rose did not see Jimmy's discomfort, only his eyes looking down her dress, she giggled, believing she was giving off the desired effect. She gently pulled Jimmy onto her by his dressing gown, and the footman let himself be pulled into a deep kiss. Why did a woman's tongue feel so different to a man's? A distinct taste… of bad conscience; but could it have laced both their tongues? He didn't feel anything except for discomfort coursing its way through his bones. He couldn't force himself to perform, but the sight of her curves, her feminine face, the sweet smell of flowers, it did nothing for him. He wished God would stretch out his hand and smite him, to share a similar fate as the late Kamal Pamuk. He felt wretched, but the girl attached to his face had no inkling of his despair, for she was determined to have the young footman who ensnared her senses, if only she knew what he was thinking.

Alex.

Alex.

Alex.

That image of the second footman's strong hand on his throbbing erection back in the stairwell was enough to encourage his penis to rise in the presence of this girl who was only spurred on by this positive expression. Jimmy responded to her kisses, his tongue tantalising hers the way he had with Alex, his hand travelled up the skin of her leg as he pulled up her dress, imagining Alex's naked thighs under his palm. He remembered the taste of Alex's sex, it tasted like nothing he knew and could never be matched, he yearned for it again. It was when his hand moved in between Rose's legs that he stopped, he opened his eyes, the girl looking back at him in anticipation for what she believed was coming, waiting for those fingers she had seen move so skilfully in the dining room to caress her and bring her to ecstasy.

He knew something was wrong as the girl's features changed into worry and fear. She didn't know what she had done wrong, but the footman leaning over her was visibly crying. He couldn't feel it, but only see it in the reflection of her eyes that she could see he wasn't right. Had what Alex said to him affected him that much the other day at breakfast? He was lying to himself, lying to everyone, he was no better than Alex. "Jimmy? Is everything alright?"

Through his gasps, his drunken breaths, he managed the words, barely discernible; "No. Nothing is."

* * *

"Alex? What are you doing down here?" The first footman adjusted his eyes to the darkness of the servants' hall as he came in for a glass of water to clear his mind after his unfortunate encounter with Rose, only to find Alex sat at the table in his running kit. The beads of sweat trailing down his forehead was enough to tell Jimmy that the second footman had been running as he always did when he needed to clear his mind and set his thoughts straight. Oh that beautiful footman who roused Jimmy's mind and body, even in exhaustion he was dazzling. Jimmy saw him and only thought of him lying naked on the bed, kissing his chest, making him forget about his deformity and his rejection from Thomas. He recalled being with him in the stairwell, his magnificent hands working their magic on his prostrate body, and the devastating thought of them waking up next to each other, it could have brought a tear to Jimmy's eye if he had any to spare.

"I'm here to give you your answer, remember? What have you been doing?" Alex could see that Jimmy was not totally present in the moment, probably due to drink, but he could not think why the youth would be driven to hit the bottle at this late hour when he had to wake for work the next morning at their usual time.

"You waiting so you could have me to yourself?" Jimmy did not want to talk about his failure with Rose, any more than he wanted to say Alex was right about him. "Admit it; you want me. You want this." Jimmy took hold of Alex's shirt and pulled him towards him, puckering his lips ready for the kiss he believed would be reciprocated in his intoxicated state, but instead he received a fist into his jaw, which felt more severe than it was, sending Jimmy reeling back into the wall.

"I told you I'd give you what was coming, drunk or sober." Alex shook his hand from the tremor of its impact into Jimmy's face.

Jimmy's hand graced his hopefully untarnished face, rolling his jaw from the pain throbbing through it. "What you doing here then?"

"To warn you;" Alex said, in less of a warning tone than he intended, "I'll tell the family what I know about you and Lady Rose if you so much as breathe a word about me."

"You've got nothing on me. What I know would put you in the slammer. I know the upper classes will get preferential treatment, but it seems pretty black and white to me, and in prison they won't like you, Your most honourable countenance!" Jimmy laughed mockingly. "Besides, you don't have to worry about me and Rose," Jimmy sniggered drunkenly, "I couldn't do it! I tried! I was there, with her, in the room, and I couldn't do it! How about that? You happy now? I'm living my life to it's brutal end; honestly! You win!"

Alex couldn't prevent feeling sympathy for the young man. He looked him over and saw the truth of Jimmy's words, just how close he got to Rose, the buttons were undone on his trousers. In his state he had forgotten to do them up, such was his hurry. Alex did not want to embarrass Jimmy further by mentioning any of it, for he knew the feeling too well and there were no fond memories involved, "Jimmy, I've got to know if you will tell them about me. Please, Jimmy!" Alex grabbed the swaying man by the collar.

"Depends how nice you are to me." Alex releasing himself from the pity he formerly held in exchange for disgust at the giggling character who now had such a hold on him.

"I'll leave," said Alex with a shaking voice, hardly believing it had come to this, "I've written a note to Thomas, telling him the truth in case this should happen, because it's clear I can't stay. I thought maybe I could reason with you, but how can I? There's no mind in there, only a hard dick!.. Will you at least give me time before you wake them?"

"How about I wake them now?" Jimmy yanked at the second footman's shorts, he had no mercy for him, only striving towards his goal of relieving himself, and he was only encouraged at the sight of Alex's underwear.

"Jimmy!" Alex slapped the youth's hands away, fiddling with his shorts to keep them up. "Do you know what will happen to me if you tell anyone? I'm innocent!"

"I'm sorry, Your Grace." Jimmy continued laughing at his use of the title which only further angered Alex, "but the law is clear."

"It's also clear about homosexuals. I could tell them about you." Alex backed up into the table fearfully as Jimmy kept pressing his advantage, the stench of alcohol looming nearer and nearer.

"Without endangering Thomas?" Jimmy smiled, placing his hands over Alex's shoulders, his palms against the wall.

"You bastard."

"What are you going to do? Huh? Kill me too?" Jimmy chuckled, but as Alex looked deep into his eyes he saw only an opportunity. There was nothing funny. Suddenly hands tightened around Jimmy's neck quickly, the force, the shock, the pushing of Alex's hands against Jimmy's jugular sent the pair back against the dining table. Alex, the fire of a dragon burning through his veins, pressed harder, Jimmy's face turned red, he gripped Alex's fingers which only succeeded in making them close down upon him. He struggled to breathe, wondering whether this moment would be his last, but in his desperation for it not to be he waved his hand across the table surface, his eyes taking in the presence of an object. Jimmy didn't know what it was, and he didn't care. He didn't care when he grabbed it, even as he saw the auburn's eyes soften and his grip release on his throat, even as he knew that the footman was going to let him go unharmed, he hit him with it over the head. The second footman fell beside Jimmy onto the table, the blonde gasping for air and taking a triumphant yet wobbly stand over Alex, wielding the candlestick in his hand like a sword, ready to strike the fallen man a second time should he attempt to get up.

But even Alex with all his strength could not fight his concussion at its onset. He was bent over the table, blood gushing from his temple, his shorts were still half way down his thigh. He couldn't move, he was so disorientated. Jimmy, seeing the blood, knew Alex wasn't getting up, and dropped the candlestick on the hard wood floor. He rubbed his neck, his heart pounded. What had just happened?

"What are you doing?" A voice came to Jimmy, who turned to see Thomas standing there.

"Thomas?" Why was he here?

"What the fuck are you doing?!" He screamed, walking briskly into the room to determine the circumstance of this unexpected encounter. The first thing he saw was Alex lying on the table, unmoving and unresponsive, with Jimmy standing over him, trousers undone, and Alex's shorts pulled down.

"I think I knocked out Alex." Jimmy said as calmly as anything, shrinking back from Thomas who came beside him and examined Alex's head, gently trying to shake him awake, but the blood told him that it was no use and the footman had to be taken to bed at once. Thomas looked at Jimmy, after all they had endured together, everything they felt for each other, that agonising concoction of emotion that sent Thomas on constant routes between heaven and hell, all came crashing down in that moment, and decisively brought his fist across into Jimmy's face. The blonde, so drunk, fell to the floor in a heap. Thomas would have gone in for a second go at him but the youth was out for the count, it was the other man who needed his attention now. Leaving Jimmy lying on the floor, Thomas put Alex's arm around his shoulders and carried him upstairs as the wounded man stirred in and out of consciousness, moaning and humming, Thomas not saying a word, just trying to imagine just what took place in that room before his arrival.

* * *

They entered Alex's room and Thomas lay the footman down on the bed, removing his shoes and covering him with the sheets. He went over to the basin of water on the side, and taking a cloth, dampened it and brought it over to rest on Alex's head, which would also help to clean the wound. Once he had done this, the under butler hurried across the hall and roused a zombified Mr Carson and Alfred and told them a brief version of what happened so the woken men might go and retrieve Jimmy from downstairs and return him to bed, and at the same time call Doctor Clarkson to see to Alex's head wound. Thomas would have done it himself, but he didn't want to leave Alex, he didn't want him to wake up alone, and if he did wake up the first thing Thomas wanted to hear from him was precisely what happened.

Thomas sat on the bed by Alex's side, holding the younger man's hand in his and wiped his brow tenderly with the wet cloth. Alex tightened his closed eyes. He could not open them, try as he might, smacking his lips to salivate his dry mouth he tried to speak.

"Thomas."

Thomas enclosed both hands firmly around the second footman's in joy that he was at least talking. "I'm here, Alex. I'm here."

"I knew you would be."

Thomas smiled, Alex beckoned him closer, but Thomas knew that the youth should be resting, not talking. "Don't speak, just lie still, quiet now. The Doctor's on his way." The older man stroked the ends of Alex's sweeping fringe, tinged with blood, which painted Thomas' ungloved fingers.

"No." Alex indicated he did not want to speak, and continued to beckon Thomas closer, Thomas leaned in, his ear near to Alex's lips so the footman might whisper if he wanted, Thomas not perceiving what else he could want or do. Alex turned his head until his lips touched Thomas' cheek and formed into a small soft kiss. "I'm so sorry." Thomas drew himself away as Alex passed out into sleep. The older stroked the younger's face, and took away the cloth to replace it with his hand.

"Alex. Alex!" Thomas rested his hand on Alex's hair, brushing the locks straying over his forehead back with his thumb to expose his moist pale skin, cooled by the water of the cloth, and without restraint Thomas pressed his lips firmly against Alex's head, with such a will that he hoped would awaken the footman and bring him back to him. He felt something in his hand; a paper. He unrolled it to see the writing of the first footman's delicate hand.

_Thomas,_

_Please believe, if nothing else, that I did not intend this. I never intended to stay at Downton for so long, and if I did it was only because of you. I did not expect to make friends, least of all one who has been as good to me as you have. This, I know, is no way for me to repay that kindness, but not seeing you every day, or perhaps ever again, should be punishment enough for my leaving you in this way._

_For if you are reading this it means that I have left Downton and no doubt the police be will be arriving, but I have to tell you the truth, I have to tell you what happened in _my_ words, not theirs. I am so sorry, please believe that everything you know of my character is true, including our friendship, but I am not who you think I am. _

_You no doubt are aware that the Viscount Benoit is accused of killing his father, the Comte de Chagny, and it is suspected that he has fled to England, where he was schooled, where he attended university. Therefore, armed with an English accent and fluency in the language and culture, he could hide anywhere without suspicion, and where better than a great house in the middle of nowhere? _

_Mais oui, mon amis. I am Viscount Benoit. _

_I know you will not believe me, but it is the truth, as is the fact I did not mean to kill my father. I am not a murderer. He threatened to cut me off because he caught dallying about with a servant. That's right; Damien was my valet, but he wasn't arrested, my father sacked him. We argued, he never approved of what I was, always too soft, too feminine. Why do you think he sent me to England? To get away from him. It's no wonder the police think I had unsavoury intentions. It was nothing like that. He pushed me, I pushed him back, maybe too hard. He fell and hit his head on the table. I panicked. I fled to the place I always knew; the one place I could ever call home; England. I had a plan to hide in a great house because I would know the life. I forged a reference letter from a good friend of mine and applied immediately on arriving in England. Fortunately English news was so slow pertaining to my father's death that no one would suspect it was me because not enough time would have elapsed since my departure from France. However, circumstances are changing, I fear now that things have become hopeless, that someone will find out my secret and use it against me, I've been lucky, if not foolish, to have gotten away with it so far. I therefore have had no choice but to leave, but I couldn't do so without telling you this, that you might believe I left without a single thought for you. _

_I hope you can forgive me, my dear friend, I know what it cost you to trust me, and that is what has hurt me most of all._

_Aurevoir, mon beau Thomas_

_Alexandre _

* * *

**A round of applause to those of you who guessed Alex's secret correctly. **


	37. Secrets and Lies, Lies and Secrets

**Thank you for reading and for taking time to review. It is always appreciated. :)**

* * *

Thomas reread the words over and over, but no matter how many times he did they made no more sense than the first time.

He trusted Alex, he opened up to him, told him everything about him that he feared and hated about himself, and Alex lied to him. Thomas looked down upon Alex's bloodied face. Alex. The viscount- oh now his father was dead he was Alex the count. Somehow that made it seem worse! Losing three letters just increased the problem. Alexandre the comte de Chagny. Could that even be his real name? Thomas didn't want to know. How could the beautiful footman be a French count? How could that sweet innocence which painted his features belong to a killer?

Would he never learn to stop being so naïve?

Alex's story made sense, everything made sense. Why would Alex write something like this if it weren't the truth? Why give it to him now? All questions which would have to wait to be answered until the footman woke up, even then Thomas wondered if he should ask them. After what Jimmy had done, what Thomas had stopped from happening, he could not trouble Alex with anything else for now. For now Thomas would take care of Alex the same way the footman had taken care of him, at last there was a chance to repay that debt, and it would begin with keeping his silence about the contents of the letter and replacing it in Alex's beside drawer where he believed it originated. He saw the almost empty bottle of scotch in the footman's drawer and Thomas felt he deserved a sip before he would go and tell Mr Carson what he had been woken up for. Thomas was a good liar, and he had already thought of what to say.

"You mean to say that James has been worried to the point of hysteria that Alexander will be promoted over him, so intoxicated himself and attacked him in a fit of rage?" Mr Carson blinked from his chair, Thomas hovering over him on the other side of the desk, arranging the collar on his uniform, trying to ignore the clock striking on the wall as it had just turned seven.

"We have all heard rumours about Mr Molesley leaving." The first thing about his story that was true. "James takes his job very seriously and he's been lacking in self confidence, due to recent events." Thomas spoke in a suggestive way to avoid mentioning the London trip, Mr Carson receptive nod showed that Thomas did not need to elaborate. "I think words have been exchanged between them about the job and James just took it too far. I don't think he meant to hurt Alexander." Lies. Lies. All lies. How could he cover up for that low life little sprig? How could he cover for either of them? It wasn't as if Thomas could even tell Mr Carson the truth, because he didn't know what it was, but he knew his friends had been acting strangely recently, though nothing like this.

"I think hitting the bottle and striking his colleague over the head with a candlestick is far too far." Mr Carson widened his eyes at Thomas, who realised that it _was_ far too far, on the brink of insanity in fact and he could do nothing but listen to Mr Carson to talk about just how insane it was. "It is a disgrace to this household and his livery, I cannot tolerate such a thing among my staff. Now, I've spoken to Doctor Clarkson and James remembers nothing about what happened-"

"Nothing?" _How convenient for him._

"Nothing. He will remain in his room until we decide what is to be done with him. Alexander, as you know, hasn't woken yet, but I fear that once we've heard his version of events I will have no choice but to sack James, unless he gives some reason as to why attacking Alexander with one of Lordship's candlesticks could be justified… I know you're close with him and-"

"No. I understand." More than Mr Carson knew, and if the butler gave him leave Thomas would throw Jimmy out the door himself.

"Right then." The butler rapped his fingers on the desk as he routinely did once he had made a hard decision, "I don't know what his Lordship will say." The butler said to himself, dreading telling his employer that under his watch his staff got blind drunk and attacked each other like animals in his civilised and respected household, that he had failed in his duty to keep the peace among the staff and free the household from scandal. Failing in duty; there was nothing worse for Mr Carson.

"No doubt he will agree with you, Mr Carson; James will have to go." Thomas offered his opinion, which was gratefully accepted by the butler who found the entire affair disheartening to say the least and was glad that he had back up from the one person who he felt would have an objection.

"Thank you, Mr Barrow. That will be all."

* * *

With both footmen out of action Thomas found it anxiety provoking that he was forced to serve breakfast upstairs, when all he wanted to do was check on Alex and give Jimmy a piece of his mind. It disturbed him that Jimmy was awake, just across the room from Alex, just lying waiting for Jimmy to revisit him and possibly finish what he started the night before. He put it from his mind, and listened to the upstairs chatter as best he could, but it was difficult. When Thomas looked over the faces of Lord and Lady Grantham, with Lady Mary, Edith, and Rose around them, Thomas imagined Alex sitting next to them. The Honourable Count Benoit. This was where he belonged; at the table, not serving it. Even though he believed it, Thomas couldn't imagine Alex as a hoity toity snob with his airs and graces intoxicating everything in his path, maybe downstairs but not up. He always wanted to believe Alex was different, but he wasn't, he was just one of these lords, with their fake smiles and manners. He could say something, he could open his mouth and tell everyone that the second footman was a murderous Count. But what good would that do except to put Alex in chains on the first ship back to France for a crime Thomas could not believe he committed?

When Rose asked where the handsome footmen were, the question had to be answered, Thomas had to listen to Carson repeat to the lord and ladies about Jimmy and Alex's condition, not revealing all the details however. Rose put her hand to her mouth in shock, it was enough to tell Thomas that she knew something, the guilt and confusion on her face saw to that. But who did she owe her emotional state to? Jimmy, or Alex? Jimmy's behaviour lately might have stretched to flirting with the young lady, but nothing more; he was a homosexual. While Alex, though he was the same class as the girl and he could be attracted to her, Thomas could not believe Alex would do something like that, then again he did confess in his letter to having an affair with his valet. Alex, the nobleman, had a valet. It was still surreal. Thomas had to know, maybe it could deter him from the thoughts swimming around in his mind; that somehow what Jimmy did couldn't be as terrible as the imaginings which poisoned his mind.

"My lady, may I have a word?" Thomas removed himself from the shadow of a pillar and approached Rose discretely as the family walked through the hallway after breakfast.

"Of course, Mr Barrow." The girl followed him into a secluded corner, Thomas avoiding the temptation of dragging her by the elbow. "What might I do for you?"

"It's about Alexander and James."

"Yes, how awful, I thought they were friends."

"They were. My lady, I need to know, was there something going on with one of them… and you?" Thomas looked about warily, clearing his throat apologetically for the embarrassment of actually asking such a question.

"Mr Barrow!" Rose gawked.

"I won't tell anyone, I just need to know. I need to know if maybe you saw one of them last night, prior to what happened, I need to know what took place between them. I have an idea, but I want to be sure."

"What idea?" Rose said with less apathy, feeling the reality of the situation as Thomas spoke of its seriousness.

"It's not for a lady's ears. Please." He implored her.

"I met Jimmy last night." She whispered, putting her fingers to her lips shamefully at her indiscretion.

"Jimmy?" As surprised that she confessed to seeing the footman as he was by her using his nick name. "What did you do?"

"Nothing. I mean… we tried but…" Thomas' eyes bore into her, pulling the answer from her, "If you must know he was blind drunk! He couldn't do anything."

The relief was as painful as the thought that Thomas was right in what he believed, with everything he heard it seemed only true; those evil motives for what occurred, his own past ever playing on his mind, tending him towards the one possibility rather than any other.

"You know that Jimmy will probably be sacked."

"Good." The girl said, though she was still attracted to Jimmy she took offence at his behaviour towards her and the second footman, she wouldn't be bothered; in fact it would likely be easier for her if he were to leave. The first footman's ally list was growing very thin indeed.

* * *

The under butler could not be stopped from going up to Alex's room. Mrs Hughes informed him that the young man was asking to see him now Doctor Clarkson had finished his work and the young man had woken. They both had many questions for each other and neither would be satisfied without answers.

"Thomas!" Alex cried from the warmth of his bed as he saw the under butler came into his doorway. "Thank you for coming to see me." Alex's head was bandaged well according to the severity of his wound, but he still wore a smile on his face. Thomas didn't want to reply, what should he say? Now Alex told him the truth was he expecting to be treated appropriately to his title? "Come in, sit down!" Alex beckoned him. Thomas did so without a word, taking a seat next to the young count. Thomas looked at the young man, even wounded he was perfect, so regal, Thomas felt stupid that he never saw it before. He wanted to be angry, he wanted to shake the footman and cry, saying 'how could you lie to me after everything?' but they were the same now, they had both suffered by the hands of men whom they cared for.

"How do you feel?" Thomas finally asked, clearing his throat from the suggestion that he wasn't being sincere.

"I'm all right, thank you. I've got a terrible headache though. Doctor Clarkson said it's concussion." The young man set his head back against the pillows, wincing. "I wish I could remember what happened."

"What do you remember?"

"I remember being in the servants' hall, then waking up to find Doctor Clarkson over me. He told me that Jimmy hit me on the head. He said you were there... when it happened."

"Yes. I was. Well, I was there after." Thomas realised that Alex remembered nothing of giving him the letter, and while the young man recovered from his ordeal Thomas told himself that it must stay that way. "Do you have any idea why Jimmy would do this to you?"

Alex's eyes welled up, he knew some of the truth, he recalled Jimmy was blackmailing him, but any memory of trying to kill him was gone. So as always with Alex; he told some of the truth, but his answer to Thomas' question was the only truth he knew, for he would never believe himself capable of trying to kill Jimmy, or anyone, intentionally, but Alex realised it was time to share one more secret with his friend who he believed saved him from Jimmy's clutches last night.

"God Thomas, I'm so sorry, please you have to forgive me, it was a mistake, a stupid mistake." The footman put a hand over his eyes to shield his tears.

'What is he talking about?' Thomas thought, unable to voice anything yet, the stoic form of the youth having been shattered so easily was troubling. 'Could he be about to tell me again what I have already read in that letter, or has he lied to me a second time?'

"A few nights ago Jimmy and I were talking in my room, we talked about you, he told me about your relationship with him. I had my suspicions but he confirmed them. We drank, we drank a lot, god knows I needed it too. One thing led to another and… he kissed me. I kissed him back. I realised then what we were doing and I told him to stop but he wouldn't. I shouted at him, not that it made any difference, he did stop, but when he did I wanted it to start again… You know he's beautiful." Alex looked at Thomas for the first time during his account, to see the under butler nod in agreement, Alex hoping that meant an understanding for how hard he found it to resist the youth, to communicate without saying it that something happened than more than a kiss, and Thomas knew that.

"Did you…. Have sex?" Thomas breathed sharply in pain that his friends went behind his back and conducted a secret affair, which explained their quietude the last few days, so Thomas had no trouble believing it.

"I've only had sex with one person, I told you that. We did something else," Thomas not needing to hear a description, but it would be more than he and Jimmy had ever done, "and since then it's like Jimmy's been addicted to pleasure. He thinks he's going to spend his life alone. He thinks he's only a homosexual for you, and that he can't be with a woman, hence his ridiculous experiment with Rose-"

"You knew about that?" _Yet another secret he's kept from me._

"I told him not to, that it wasn't him, but he didn't listen, instead he just kept coming after me."

"Did he succeed?" Thomas spoke accusingly; could Alex just be another Duke? A nobleman who lies and schemes their way into people's beds, just taking who and whatever they want?

Alex didn't want to lie, he could see the other man's eyes glistening, but tears shouldn't stop him now from speaking the truth, not when the worst had already been said. "I had him in the stairwell."

"You 'had him in the stairwell'? I thought you took risk seriously?"

"I do!" Alex exclaimed, putting his fingers to his temple in pain as he jerked his head up to Thomas, "I didn't want this, I don't have feelings for him. He cornered me, kissed me, seduced me. I'm only human, Thomas. I'm sorry."

"Jimmy and me were in the past, even if you wanted to be with him I have no right to stop you." Where was the anger? The smack across the face? Thomas was surprised by his own passiveness, but he just couldn't be angry when he knew that in Alex's place he would have done exactly the same thing, in fact, Jimmy wouldn't have had to try so hard. Thomas did kiss him in his sleep after all. He was angry, but not at that, he was angry at the lies, at the secrets. How many more were there? Thomas trembled, he stood to leave, his head hung, but the nobleman grabbed his hand.

"Thomas, do you forgive me?" Not expecting the answer Thomas gave him.

"Yes." He had to say, even as sadly as he said it, regretting everying exaggerrated letter.

"Why? What have I done to make you forgive me?"

"Nothing. It's what _he_'s done." Thomas' eyes gestured to the door in the direction of Jimmy's room across the hall.

Alex, having no idea what was going on in Thomas' mind, beseeched him desperately; "What do you mean?" Thomas gave no reply, Alex clutching Thomas' hand more firmly in fear of the truth that that thus far been kept from him. "Thomas, what do you mean?!"


	38. Assorted Crimes

**Thank you for continuing to read this rather long story, and for your reviews; they bring sunlight to my rather cloudy days. :)**

**Apologies for any spelling/ grammar mistakes**

* * *

Thomas gave Alex his answer; to just exactly what he found out Jimmy had done to him. There were denials, tears, and the inducement of shock, but Thomas had no pity. If there were any punishment for the lies the footman had told, this was it. But Thomas did not comfort Alex, he still needed time, he didn't care if Alex hated him for it, once he learned the truth he would understand. He left Alex drying his eyes in his bed sheets to go across the hall to the blonde footman, to tell him exactly the same as what he had said to Alex. Just as Doctor Clarkson said; Jimmy remembered nothing about the incident. How coincidental. It was hardly believable that the two first hand witnesses to such a crime both had no memory, one from injury, one from alcohol. Jimmy was sat in bed, as Mr Carson said, he had been confined to his room pending a decision of what to do with him. He was desperate to see Alex, he had been told that he hit him over the head, and he wanted to apologise, knowing he must have been drunk out of his mind to do such a thing, because he really couldn't imagine any reason for him to do it. He had no visitors, he was left alone to his thoughts, all dark, all terrible. He couldn't even remember if he managed to go through with sleeping with Rose, because that's why he got drunk in the first place. The first thing he thought when he woke up was a hope that he _hadn't_ had sex with Rose. The amount he had drunk, judging from the empty bottle of whisky on the side which was about two thirds full prior to the night before, made him think that he would have done anything, even sleep with Rose, a woman. What a prospect.

A pyjama clad Jimmy stood to meet Thomas as he came silently into the first footman's room, looking down upon the younger man with unfeeling, a bruise lingered on Jimmy's cheek from where Thomas had hit him, it was an eyesore, but Jimmy didn't blame him, not after what Doctor Clarkson said had happened. "How is he? Is he all right?" Jimmy sought after Alex, no one being able to say anything more to him than; 'he'll live'.

Thomas paced down the end of the bed, like a frustrated lion being tossed into a goat pen, making careful deliberations of how to tear the latter apart. "Lucky for him he doesn't remember a thing."

"Nor do I. I remember dinner, then drinking, then… waking up." A smile tugged at the corner of Jimmy's mouth before it receded back into a frown, as the under butler refused to face him, but hearing his voice, being beside him, knowing what he did, made his hands grab for the collar of Jimmy's pyjamas.

"How could you? How could you?!"

"I didn't mean to do it! I was drunk out of me mind! I don't even remember hitting him!" Jimmy shrieked helplessly, his fingers wrapped around Thomas' wrists.

"And everything else? Stalking him around the house like a lusty schoolboy, and when he wouldn't give you what you want you try to rape him?!"

'Everything else' could be forgotten, 'everything else' was true, Jimmy couldn't deny it, but it didn't matter, it didn't matter believing he was a promiscuous fool, a homosexual… but a rapist…. It was a dream, a nightmare, he was still drunk, he had to be, these words deformed themselves, a dyslexia of the ears. "Rape? What are you talking about? No, no, no I wouldn't do that. I couldn't! Why would you say that?!"

"Then how do you explain me walking in on you in the middle of the night, your trousers undone, Alex practically passed out over the table, shorts down about his knees after you hit him over the head?! Huh?"" Thomas pulled Jimmy closer to his face, they felt each other's breath, their saliva spewing out onto the other, bright and dark of blue eyes, with a tinge of red seeping about the edges, widened, locking fiercely.

"I don't know, I don't- But I would never do that! I wouldn't!"

"You did once before. Remember?" The blonde's eyes burned so hard they melted, oozing tears from between their lids, afraid of what more brutal evils Thomas had to say of him, "What's the matter, Jimmy? You don't remember Alex screaming at you to leave him alone when you came at him drunk the first time? And you hadn't drunk half as much as you had last night, if that empty bottle there is anything to go by!" Thomas averted his eyes to the empty whisky bottle on the side which he recognised as his own, and knew how much there was in it when it had 'gone missing'.

Jimmy's eyes went to the ceiling before they closed. He was so close to Thomas, he wanted to fall into his arms and sob and to be embraced, comforted, oh god how he wanted him, but there he was, so far away, with every accusation he grew still further, but it was Jimmy fading, it was like he was being slowly poisoned, slowly dying. "I… I … god…no… I don't remember, why can't I remember?"

"How convenient of you." Thomas only sneered, pushing Jimmy away, whose body fell forward, shaking hands clutching at his hair.

"I just… I don't understand. I couldn't have. There's got to be another explanation!"

"I was there! I saw it! What other explanation could there be?!"

"I…. There has to be. There has to be." Jimmy whispered, folding his arms up about his shoulders.

"I saw Rose." Thomas said, more calmly than before.

"Rose?" _He really does know everything._

"She told me that you were ready to sleep with her… but you couldn't do it." Jimmy couldn't help but feel a small sense of relief at this revelation, but also a worry (which he couldn't think about in detail now) that maybe he would spend his life alone, because he knew for certain now that he couldn't be with a woman. Except what Thomas learned from her only served as evidence to inflame Thomas' accusation. "You were so desperate that you would go to _her_! Her! A woman! Not just any woman, a lady of the house you work for! You couldn't have me, Alex rejected you, Rose slipped through your fingers, so instead you had to take it!"

"No!"

"Yes!"

"It can't be true, it can't be. Oh my god. Oh my god." Jimmy threw himself back against the nearest wall, facing away from the room, from sll signs of light, putting his arm up to have his eyes bury into it to conceal his weeping. "I didn't did I?" He wailed softly.

"What?"

"I didn't actually…? Did I?" Jimmy swivelled, his red eyes, flooded with tears, his hand up to his mouth in fear that Thomas might say 'yes' only made the under butler doubt that Jimmy could have done such an abhorred act, but there was also belief in the young man's eyes that he was guilty, and it was enough to rid that doubt from Thomas' mind.

Both their hearts ached, and in agony Thomas uttered; "No."

"Oh…" Jimmy wept, "thank god…. Thank god. Oh Thomas…" Jimmy tore himself away from the safety of the wall, his face shone with the moisture of his misery by the glow from the fireplace, "what am I? What have I become?"

"I don't know anymore. I don't want to know." Thomas turned from the young man, wiping under his nose with the back of his gloved hand.

Jimmy tried to approach Thomas, but stopped when he saw how repulsed the older man was by him. The same way he felt after Thomas kissed him that night while he slept, but this was worse. If Jimmy could have stepped away from himself he would have. "I wouldn't have done it. I never would have. I must have been out of me mind. I would have stopped myself, please you have to believe I wouldn't have done it."

"I can't believe you, because of course you _would_ lie."

"You really think I would do something like that?"

"I didn't think you would say what you said to me in London, I didn't think you'd use a Lady of the house to release your urges, I didn't think I would come down to find you, trousers undone behind Alex passed out after you hit him on the head! I don't know you anymore." Thomas shook his head in disdain.

"Why would I do something like that?" Jimmy asked himself as much as he asked Thomas, tears continuing to fall down his cheeks.

"Maybe you were just tired of people rejecting you, of not being number one in everyone's eyes!"

"No, no. Please Thomas you have to believe me, I would never purposely do anything to hurt you or Alex, you have to believe me; I'll never forgive myself if you don't."

"Good, I hope you can't." Thomas couldn't stay in Jimmy's presence, he went to the door, the young man fell to his knees in weakness.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." He whispered.

Thomas, leaving his hand resting on the handle, wanted Jimmy to know that it would take more than an apology to forgive him. "How could you? How could you? After what that man did to me? You saw what he did to me! You know! I was beginning to trust you again and you do this! You do to someone else, to our best friend, what he did to me! You're sick… and I hate you." Thomas cried, his voice turning gravelly through his own pain.

"Thomas-"

"Shut up! You can stay until you make other arrangements, but you are no longer employed in this house, and until you leave if you so much as look at Alex in any way that makes him uncomfortable, you even touch him, I will call the police myself. Got it?"

"Thomas-"

"That's Mr Barrow to you, James… You're no better than the Duke."

The door shut, and the world turned back into one devoid of reality, there was no attempted rape, no Rose, no blackmail, nothing. A life that no one knew about except for those involved. No one would know of Jimmy's evil, in the same way no one would know of the Duke's. The misery of Jimmy's assorted crimes is that no one knew the truth, and it was lies, the lies Thomas was led to by his own awful experience, which made the former first footman write a short note which he slipped under Alex's door.

One hour later that note was read, the second footman bolted out of the door, he went to Jimmy's room apprehensively, he opened the door but didn't enter, calling for the blonde who did not answer. He went in the dark room. It was empty, except for the furniture. The only sign of it having been lived in was an empty bottle of whisky on the side. Alex looked back down at the note in his hand, and put what he saw before him together with the words on the paper and he knew what it all meant. He had to find Thomas, but first he went back to his room and dropped the paper in the flickering embers of the fire. The ink burned down, letter by letter, along with the rest of it, the flames turned black against the paper and smoke rose, but Alex smiled to himself in relief, he had suffered, but his secret was now safe. Jimmy said so with his own hand;

_Your secret will always be safe with me, I swear it._

_If we meet again, I will ask you to forgive me._


	39. Goodbye Jimmy, Hello Mr Barrow

**I know, I know; Jimmy's gone, what the hell? But don't worry, I won't forget about him ;)**

**As always, thank you for lovely reviews, and for reading :D**

**Apologies for any spelling/ grammar mistakes**

* * *

Thomas didn't care that Jimmy had gone, it was inevitable anyway since he had been sacked. However, the under butler was still overwrought by everything that had happened, he still couldn't believe it; his former lover tried to rape their best friend. It was insanity, but what other explanation was there? Jimmy himself could not deny just how strong the evidence was, why else would he leave?

When a search was made and it was clear that Jimmy had gone the first thing Thomas said to Alex was; "Congratulations, you've just been promoted." To which Alex replied, "I'm not sure it was worth it." Thomas knew that it wasn't. Lord Grantham could have made him his heir and it wouldn't have been worth what the Duke had done to him. It was strange thinking they may never see Jimmy again, and the chatter in the servants' hall over the next two days reflected this, but Mr Carson was more worried about serving dinner with no footmen, it was just fortunate that Lord Gillingham wasn't visiting until the next week; on Christmas day. What a terrible time to find a replacement footman; at Christmas. Carson wouldn't let it go, parrotting the feelings of the Dowager, that it was terribly selfish of Jimmy to leave at such an awkward time. Thomas couldn't say to the butler that he was certain Jimmy would never come back, but it was clear that he would be gone for a while at least because his belongings were gone.

As much as it hurt Thomas and made him feel guilty, he wouldn't see Alex, not yet. He had plenty of excuses; now there were no footmen he had to step in, after all he didn't want to give Mr Carson any reason to put Alfred back in livery. Thomas needed time to himself for a while to think about everything. He forgave Alex for his one night with Jimmy, but the lies… Alex was a nobleman! A Viscount! A fugitive! Thomas could understand why Alex would lie, of course he would, and he of all people knew how hard it was to confess that your life is an assortment of crimes, but could Thomas be friends with a nobleman who killed his father (albeit by accident)? The answer was easy for him; yes, but that didn't mean Thomas could trust him.

The under butler was losing his nerves, very slowly except when it came on in a sudden burst, like when it caused him to spill scorching tea over his glove just as Alfred was taking up the tray to the footman who had been assigned bed rest. Thomas didn't want to remove his glove downstairs in front of everyone, the bullet wound on the one hand was bad enough, but to also have to hide the scar which lingered on his right hand was very inconvenient. He waited to remove the glove until he was ascending the stairs. His hand shook, from the heat the pain, and of course that pesky lack of nerve. There was a feeling at the back of his throat which made him want to go 'eugh', but he kept it back. He came into the corridor, and he heard voices. His first idiot thought was that maybe after the knock on the head Alex had turned schizophrenic and was talking to himself. Thomas moved closer to the room with the open door. His footsteps were silent, his back flat against the wall he stood outside and recognised the voices to be Alfred's and Alex's. From what he heard, the assistant cook had not been there long.

"You didn't have to come in, you could have left it at the door." Thomas heard the obvious upper classness of Alex's voice from inside the room, in disbelief still at his previous obliviousness to Alex's true status the under butler thought to himself ; 'my god he is so obviously upper class'.

"I wanted to see how you were." The assistant cook fumbled with his answer.

"My friend has fled after hitting me over the head and leaving me concussed. I'm as well as can be expected." Alfred looked shifty, more than that he looked guilty. Alex smiled at the assistant cook's hesitation but he knew there was an ulterior motive for why he had visited; "Why are you here, Alfred? What do you want to ask me?"

"It's about Mr Barrow. I know what he is, and I don't approve of it, but there's been talk about what happened to him with the Duke…" Alex's and Thomas' ears both pricked at this. "I'm not as stupid as people think I am, everyone's saying that the Duke hurt Mr Barrow. We're not allowed to talk about it, I know, but we do. We can't help it when we see how much he's changed. The thing is, I don't think the Duke just hurt him like everyone's saying."

"What _do_ you think?"

"That there was more to it." Alfred swallowed, but Alex's patient quiet; his want to hear more made him very approachable, and Alfred knew he could continue, "Me auntie implied that there were something more between them and…"

"Be careful, Alfred; what _you're_ implying is-"

"I know. I've been thinking about it for a few weeks now..." He trailed off. Alex raised an inquisitive eyebrow at the youngster, "Just the way he's been. Why he went to Ripon with Jimmy twice a week."

"That proves nothing." Alex said quickly, wanting to put indecent thoughts from Alfred's mind if he could, because he knew if the assistant cook persevered he would not be able to lie.

"I know it were bad enough for Mr Carson to forbid us from mentioning it, bad enough to make Mr Barrow turn er… nice." He said softly to keep any listeners from laughing too hard at his interpretation of the new _and_ improved Mr Barrow. Mr Barrow himself shuddering against the wall outside at this description of him. 'What have I done to warrant such a reputation? Hopefully no one else thinks that,' he thought.

"Have you told anyone?"

"No."

"Good," Alex holding a serious glance to drag out any guilt from Alfred should he be lying, "make sure it stays that way. If I hear you speaking of it again, to anyone, even me, even Thomas; remember that I know where you sleep."

"You don't need to threaten me. I won't say 'owt . I don't think much of Mr Barrow, but he doesn't deserve that happen to him."

"No one does, Alfred, but Thomas has been through enough in his life, he doesn't need to be reminded of this any more than he already is." The threatening tone remaining in Alex's voice.

"I do feel bad for him." Was Alfred's way of saying he understood.

"So do I. I would have taken it myself to keep it from him." Thomas moved away from the wall slightly, Alex said it in such quiet tones, almost as if he was saying it to himself, but he leaned in, hoping the footman might repeat it again just for him, "Alfred, like you I have heard things about what you speak; but I haven't heard one thing; who was the Duke? Where was he from?"

"Crowborough."

Thomas heard nothing. Had he gone deaf? Was Alex speaking in smallness to himself again? "Are you sure?" The question finally came from Alex, the pitch raised at the climax, like in surprise. Thomas thought it strange that nothing else about the conversation surprised Alex, nothing except for that.

Alfred asked the question Mr Barrow begged that he would. "Yes; it were the Duke of Crowborough. Why?"

"It's no matter. Thank you, Alfred." Alex dismissed the footman like a professional. Thomas imagining Alfred bowing before the Count, but instead Alfred walked towards the door and opened it right in the face of Mr Barrow, who managed, in his surprise, to give Alfred a morally superior look which made the assistant cook shrivel up and suddenly wonder whether it was right that he should be there.

"Oh, Mr Barrow, er- how long have you been stood there?" Alfred whimpered.

"Long enough."

"Well, I- er-"

"Just go, Alfred."

"Righto."

The assistant cook scampered down the corridor, Thomas following him with his eyes, not stepping into Alex's room until Alfred could be heard retreating down the stairs. The first thing Thomas noticed when he finally came into Alex's room was that his bandages were gone, but there was still a nasty gash on his head, bringing back the memory of the night it delivered. Despite the half grin on Alex's face, the paleness of his skin and the dark rings around his eyes were all too familiar, it was like Thomas was looking in the mirror three weeks ago, he only hoped there wasn't a bottle of whisky in Alex's bed side cupboard. "You let him off easy." The footman flickered his smile at Thomas.

"Didn't want to ruin me reputation for niceness."

Alex awkwardly twiddled his thumbs, realising just how much Thomas had heard of his and Alfred's conversation. "Thomas, I'm so sorry, I didn't want to lie about that-"

"I know. It's all right. I figured most of them would have guessed the truth when they watched Lord Grantham banish the Duke from the grounds." Said Thomas. "When you said you know where Alfred's room is; you're not gonna go kiss him, are you?"

"That's _your_ department, my friend." Alex smiled, relieved that Thomas did not mind as much as he thought he would about him speaking of his trauma with someone the under butler commonly referred to as 'that stupid jumped up ginger sprig'.

"You heard about that?" Thomas' joke told only for himself, not expecting the youth to know the reference.

"O'Brien's got a big mouth, she said she was warning me about you." Thomas shook his head at the lengths the woman went to to drive people away from him.

"Yet you stayed friends with me?"

"If I want you to kiss me, then I'll kiss you first. I wouldn't make you wait until I was asleep." Alex laughed, unintentionally making Thomas feel idiotic for taking that presumptuous step with Jimmy.

Before Alex could apologise, or even realise that he had made a blunder, Thomas looked at the book that was lying face down on the bed, just waiting to be picked up by the patient. "You shouldn't be reading with concussion, you'll feel even worse."

"I found that out the hard way, thanks."

"What are you reading?" Thomas uncrossed his arms and stepped towards Alex, picking the book up from the sheets just as the footman's hands went for it, knowing the under butler would ridicule his choice, "Ah, surprise, surprise, Alexandre Dumas; _The Black Tulip. _I haven't read this one. Any good?"

"Of course." Alex said while Thomas perused the first page, "Anyway why are you up here? I thought you couldn't come until later?"

"Spilled tea over me glove." Thomas held up the tea stained glove which had worked its way back on to his hand in the corridor, "Besides, I were missing you downstairs." Only two chairs were vacant in the servants' hall, but it was still two chairs too many to make the under butler feel lonely.

"I'm afraid I'm not much company."

"Impossible."

"It isn't, unless you fancy reading to me?" Alex raised his eyebrows in hope of some favourable company, but Thomas replaced the book on the bed and rubbed his hands against his trousers, hating to say no, but it was still too soon, even after two days since Jimmy's departure.

"I'm expected downstairs."

"Are you all right?" Alex tilted his head, whether it was from concern or the sinking provoked by his wound didn't matter; it still gave the same effect.

"I'm fine."

"I know what Jimmy's done will have brought up memories for you, but it's not the same, you know that don't you? You're safe."

"I know." Thomas could say honestly for the first time since the Duke's departure, "I just worry about you."

"Don't. I'll be fine, we both will be, we'll get through this. I'm sorry I couldn't come to the psychiatrists with you yesterday."

"I didn't go." Thomas informed the youth, who looked disappointed that Thomas was so cavalier about missing his appointment.

"Why didn't you go?" Alex asked with prepared anger should Thomas say he cancelled because he was laid up in bed, sod Mr Carson having no footmen.

"That's it now, my counselling days are done, because I were referred I got a set number of sessions, they're over now, and I'm glad for it, can't go in for spewing out me feelings more than once a year. I feel much better, happier, and it's about time I acted like it if Alfred's opinion of me is shared by everyone else."

"I think it is." Alex said, worried that Thomas' new vote of confidence in himself was for the benefit of everyone except the one person it should count for; Thomas himself.

"Well, I best get to work then." The under butler straightened his waistcoat, determined that once he left that room his life would change, it was a moment he had felt at least seven times a day for the last week or two… or three, but one thing after another had kept him back, but Jimmy's departure, the end of his counselling sessions, and hearing what Alfred said, had given him the foundation of a new start, the start he needed to move his life forward. He had a bright glint in his eye, a glint that Alex saw and registered, and with a small nod, he smiled and knew that the Thomas he had not yet met had returned to Downton. "Who knew that jumped up ginger sprig could be of use?" The under butler remarked.

"Who knew?" Alex repeated with raised eyebrows.

A knock at the door disturbed their smiles, Thomas before would have been forced to back away from the bed should anyone get the wrong idea about what was going on, seeing as apparently everyone knew about his misstep with Jimmy the night of the sleep kiss, but instead he decided to stay where he was, he didn't care what anyone thought of him, he was Thomas, Mr Barrow, the under butler of Downton, Thomas 'sod the world' Barrow. "Who is it?" Alex called from the bed.

This prompted Alfred to open the door just a crack and rasp unnecessarily through the gap, "Telephone for you, Mr Barrow!"

"Who is it?" Thomas rasped back in a mocking way.

Alfred stood up straight and opened the door before clearing his throat in and spoke normally; "It's Victoria, Mr Barrow."

"Victoria?" Thomas pulled a concerned face, and without bothering to make his excuses to Alex, he went downstairs. The conversation on the telephone was brief, and immediately afterwards Thomas had to go upstairs and tell Alex what he had heard, before he had to tell everyone else who were trying to bombard his way to wriggle every morsel of gossip out of this unique phone conversation. As stated in the mental declaration he wrote to himself; he wouldn't let anyone stand in his way, and if anyone asked him anything he didn't want to answer or wasn't interested in he would ignore it or be rude in kind. He didn't need their polite civility, and he didn't want them to think they could talk to him like he was one of them, because he wasn't, they don't like him, they don't understand, they never did, and they would never want to. They feel sorry for him now he's hurting, what they didn't care to find out was that he had always been hurting, but no one cared, so why care about them? He wouldn't. There were only two people who did care, who understood, who accepted him; and that was worth more to Thomas than gold; Victoria and Alex. The latter who was sat up straight as Thomas appeared once again before him. Alex put down his book, which he obviously made a second desperate attempt at reading, and asked. "Thomas? What is it? What happened?" Thomas only had one thing to say, but Alex still had to ask him again; "What did she say?"

"It's Jimmy…. He's in London."

* * *

**Yes, Mr Barrow has returned to being a lean mean scheming machine. I hope this disappoints no one, but I thought it was about time it happened :)**


	40. Animals and Criminals

**Thank you for reading and any reviews, they are so much appreciated. :)**

**Apologies for any spelling/ grammar mistakes**

* * *

Jimmy didn't want to hurt anyone again. He didn't trust himself. How then could he expect anyone else to? Especially the two people he most cared about; Thomas and Alex. They would never forgive him, promising to keep Alex's secret was no compensation whatsoever for what he had put the second footman through. So he packed and put himself on the first train to London, he had a clear idea of what he should do, ideas which did not involve seeing Victoria. He could find work there, he could be himself, he could be alone where he could contemplate whether he deserved to live the life he had been given, and until he made that decision he could live a solitary life, of decadence, of animals and fear, of flesh and the deepest darkest dregs of nature, because that was what he deserved; nothing good, nothing pure. Whatever London offered him; even life as a prostitute, even jail; he knew it was god's way of telling him that that was his punishment, but there was no harm in encouraging it.

After he staked his claim on the first place with a 'to let' sign on it; he knew where to go. Cavour. That haunt of unspoken desires. After what happened he never planned to come back here, but now he was determined. He wanted the Duke to come, either to kill or be killed. They both deserved it. They were both animals.

He put on the suit that was fitted for him by Darren all those weeks ago and walked with weighted steps to the club. Memories stalked him as he went through the doors. He saw Charlie, to whom he addressed himself as 'Mr Barrow's friend' and received a wink and an open door in return. The confidence with which Jimmy asked to speak to the manager, the cheeky smiles he gave to the patrons, and his naturally vain appearance, weighed heavily on manager Neil's answer when Jimmy asked him for a job. He still had his reference from Lady Anstruther; the manager was impressed by that. When they spoke of Jimmy's acquaintance with former employee, Mr Barrow, Neil wondered why Jimmy had no reference from Lord Grantham. The truth could not be spoken, Jimmy had to say that his sexuality was discovered and he was forced to leave. That fact, and his connection to Mr Barrow, won him enough sympathy to be given a trial. He was dressed for the part and was passed over to one of their more experienced employees for supervision. It early evening on a weekday, it wouldn't be too busy, and he would be doing what he was used to; carrying drinks over to the patrons. Lucky for him, the man he was assigned to was a familiar face; young green eyed Joe, who was pleased to see the blonde again who succeeded where he failed with regard to Thomas, but his pleasure when he learned that Jimmy had returned to London alone (without Thomas) was not so clear.

Joe was helpful, when he wasn't around potential clients he was sincere and interesting, it was the show he put on that Jimmy believed put Thomas off the young man who he had chance after chance with. Joe was a good distraction, but he could see that Jimmy wasn't right. From the break up? Because he'd been outted? As long as the customers didn't see it and weren't put off ordering then it didn't matter. He hadn't heard about what happened last time Thomas and Jimmy were there, no one knew, it was an isolated incident, and Jimmy didn't want to divulge it. He knew himself that he was mad for returning but didn't want Joe to tell him as much so kept his secrets hidden in his the safety of his head.

Jimmy wouldn't have smiled if Joe wasn't watching over him, he wouldn't have tolerated the perverted glances he was being given, but he had to, and he forced himself to enjoy it. That's why he was here, after all; because of what happened with Rose and Alex, and what had he wanted in return? Attention. He would never be lacking in it here. There would always be a man ready to take him home, to tell him he was wanted, that he was beautiful, and they would never know what he had done.

But he would know.

He was content to work, forget about Alex, make some money, sleep with a few hundred men for fun and maybe bonuses, that was his life; the life of animals and criminals, and he was both.

"So, have I got the job?" Jimmy asked Joe after he had been serving with excellence for almost two hours.

"That's what I'll tell Neil."

Jimmy smiled, now he could at least afford the accommodation he had found for himself, now he had to worry about buying more suits, he couldn't work five nights a week on one. Neil gave him an allowance and told him that one tailors nearby gave Cavour workers a discount because Neil sent all his workers there. Joe was happy to take Jimmy to the tailors the next morning, but Jimmy already knew where it was, though he didn't want to go alone.

* * *

"Mr Arkwright!" Joe cried, shaking the tailor's hand as he came into the empty shop. Jimmy trailed behind with his hands in his pockets, unlike Joe he kept his hat on, and looked about the shop hoping he wouldn't see Darren there who would definitely recognise him and raise the alarm with Victoria who would find any chance to meddle in this new 'life' he was forging for himself. The shop was completely empty, tended only by the aging tailor. He was absent in mind when the elderly tailor fitted him in the suit all Cavour employees wore, as always the tailor was considerate and tolerant to his young customers. To him, every man, no matter who he was, was a customer, and Mr Arkwright never judged his customers. It was 'bad for business, bad for the soul'; he would say. His memory wasn't ideal, he remembered a man's cut before his name, the colour of the last suit he bought before the shade of his hair, so he didn't recognise Jimmy, even when he left, writing his name down in the receipt book.

Arkwright's other tailor showed up for his shift an hour after Jimmy and Joe left, he greeted his employer, hung up his coat and checked the sales for that morning in the book. His finger scrolled down the list of names, old names and new, a couple made him chuckle knowing the character of their owners, a couple made him grateful he wasn't there to attend them, but there was the one name which made him look more carefully.

"Mr Arkwright, may I use the telephone? It's urgent."

"Of course, son, we're hardly rushed off our feet." The old man peered at Darren over the top of his eyeglasses, before turning back to examining his very fine window display, giving a slightly hoarse cough when he attempted to laugh politely at his remark. Darren had already lifted the receiver and asked to be connected to the Blossom hotel.

"Mr Watts?.. I'm sorry to bother you. It's er- it's Darren.. Darren; Luke's uh… No please, please don't hang up! It's important that I speak to Victoria… You know I wouldn't call your home if it wasn't important…. I know I promised I wouldn't try and contact you or your wife but I have to speak to your daughter…Thank you, sir." Darren looked around the shop, tapping his finger on the receiver anxiously, tightening his grip on it when he heard a female voice on the other end. "Vic?!... Don't sound so worried, I'm fine, Luke's fine, I just wanted to ask you something; is Jimmy in London?... Because there's a receipt for him from this morning, he came in for a suit, and you'll never guess why…"

* * *

"Thanks for coming with me today." Jimmy said to Joe as they walked down London's streets in the late evening after spending a half relaxing day of shopping, dining and touring around the less visited haunts of the city, all of which Jimmy enjoyed despite his attempts not to in sight of his guilt. Joe's company left little to be desired and Jimmy could understand why he chose the profession he was occupied with as it suited his personality down to a tee; and was himself a top class people pleaser, not remiss of genuine sensitivity.

"It was worth spending my day off with you; seeing you all dressed up." Joe nodded his head to one of Jimmy's bags containing the suit he had purchased from Arkwright's. The visit to the acquainted tailor's still playing on Jimmy's mind, but satisfied that Mr Arkwright himself did not remember him.

"The first and second time you saw me I were dressed up!" Jimmy exclaimed, nudging Joe, who recovered his need to fall by swaying elegantly into the road.

"Sometimes it's nice watching the process take place." The green eyed youth winked at Jimmy who bowed his head sheepishly when the escort came back onto the sidewalk. "I had a nice time today." Joe added.

"Are you putting the moves on me, Joe?"

"I'm not like that, Jim. Not really. It's all an act for the club, that's what the punters want, to feel good about themselves. I hate what I become, but that's what I'm paid to be. This is who I really am, here with you." Joe assured Jimmy, who he was given sole permission to call 'Jim' for short, which the blonde didn't mind as it made him feel a bit more mature and made him forget that he was that 'Jimmy' who had hurt his friends and left Downton.

"I'm flattered."

"You should be." Joe grinned toothily, his teeth shining under the street light they walked under. "Do you uh… want to come back to mine? Night cap?" Joe scratched the back of his neck, as he did every time he felt nervous, which was a unique experience for the confident young man.

"I better not, I've still got unpacking to do believe it or not." Jimmy smiled gratefully at Joe for the invitation which he did not feel ready to accept in his current mental state.

"I can help if you want." Joe offered in all innocence, but Jimmy still wasn't willing to bite either way.

"No, it's fine thanks, I'm actually pretty tired, but I'll see you at work tomorrow, yeah?"

"Yeah sure, shall I pick you up?" Joe asked knowing they both started at the same time, a night shift, and nights could be dangerous in the area in which Jimmy had taken up residence, but even after knowledge of this Joe could not convince the new Londoner to try for a different location even if he has to pay more for it.

"Eight o'clock, yeah? Night, Joe."

"Night, Jim." Joe waved, not looking back as he walked back down the street from where they came. Jimmy took a few steps forward, stopping under the glare of the street light. His eyes fixed down the street he was about to venture down, a dark and lonely road lined with snow, dips filled with rain water shimmering in the cool winter wind. It was to the end of that street he had to walk down, then left, then make two rights until Jimmy would reach the street with his flat on.

* * *

His things were unpacked. It was a dirty apartment, it needed a good clean, maybe he should have asked Joe to give him a hand. He didn't want to be alone with him, he was afraid, all day he never touched Joe, if people looked at him he thought they knew, they could see into his mind and they would be heading for the nearest phone box, crying down the line 'rapist! Rapist in Covent Garden! Come at once before he does it again! Stop him!' On every stranger's lips those words formed, he heard them. Through every laugh, every line in Joe's innocently pointed face he read the judgement of his crime, and the payment was death. All he had to do was close his eyes and wait, and with any luck, with the will of god, he may never wake.

Jimmy shut his door behind him, locking it, going into the kitchen he looked at what had been left for him by the previous owner away from what he had brought into the flat himself, not that he had much kitchen-wise. Maybe God _was_ watching; for a knife lay there, still a sharp edge on it, but unclean, though it did not matter, Jimmy didn't wipe it down. He then knew that God was not merciful, so he took the knife and let God's work unfold by his own hands.


	41. Strength

**Thank you for reading, and your kind reviews. :)**

**Apologies for any spelling/ grammar mistakes.**

* * *

Alfred was right; Thomas had turned nice. It was a terrible thing for him. It didn't matter before, but now it made him feel weak. He wanted to be a part of the life around him, but to do that he couldn't continue how he was now, not now he was getting better. He once had no strength, not even the strength being around Jimmy required him to have, but now there was nothing to hinder his progress; no reminders, no pressure. Thomas was free from the cage that those memories kept him in and he had to stay free, he had to find the strength, he had to find the strength to say 'sod the world' because that was who he was.

No one knew why Jimmy had gone, except the lie Thomas told; he'd been sacked because he fought with Alex and decided to leave immediately and avoid the looks and gossip reminiscent of his crime. Thomas missed Jimmy, but at the same time hated what he's done; what he's become, and wondered how he could have ever cared so much for him. Just as Thomas was starting to remember the Jimmy from their night in Cavour and hoped he was still in there somewhere, he did this terrible thing, the Jimmy he now knows; the Jimmy he doesn't recognise, he wouldn't care if he never saw him again.

He went downstairs after telling the news to Alex of Jimmy's new destination, everyone was waiting for him to return to tell them what had happened on the telephone. The thing was, Thomas didn't know much, only that Jimmy was in London and probably working at Cavour; judging by the suit he purchased at Arkwright's. He left the second point out when he relayed the news to everyone downstairs, and the reaction was very mixed.

"Can't believe Jimmy just took off like that, to London of all places. What's London got that we haven't?" Ivy started up as she came around the table dealing out rolls to the table.

"What does it matter? Good riddance. That's what I say." Miss O'Brien offered her usual spitefulness.

"It's probably for the best, him leaving the way he did," Alfred followed his aunt while dishing up the soup (Thomas still couldn't get used to seeing him in an apron), "be easier on him and Alex rather than dragging it all out."

"You've changed your tune." Thomas said critically, taking a seat in the middle of the three empty consecutive seats left by himself and the footmen.

"What?"

"About Alexander."

"He was attacked over a promotion, I think anyone would."

"What promotion?" Thomas abruptly stopped buttering his roll at the prospect that his lie was about to be rumbled by the uninspiring Mr Molesley.

"Well…" Ivy began uneasily, looking for someone to help her, but no one bit, "we've all heard talk that you're leaving and-"

"Leaving? Downton? Me?"

"So it's not true?" Alfred asked.

"I was hoping to keep it secret but, yes, I am going." Molesley said while he fiddled with his bread roll, like he was ashamed for leaving, like he was abandoning ship. Thomas meanwhile, though in shock that his lie actually had some truth in it, tried to maintain the appearance that he knew all along by biting with self satisfaction into his own roll.

"What? When? Why?" Mrs Patmore shrieked from the doorway.

"After Mr Crawley passed, I felt the only thing I could do was look for another job, even if Mr Branson wanted a valet, I don't think I ever could- no disrespect to him, but I could never-"

"Too right." Miss O'Brien interrupted the timid ex-valet. In the past Thomas would have leapt at the chance to voice his opinions on Molesley valeting for a former chauffeur, but not wanting to openly side with O'Brien he kept silently in agreement.

"Anyway, I've been accepted as valet to Lord Baskington, I'll be leaving in a couple of weeks." Molesley continued with a smile at his achievement.

"So what job was it that Alex and Jimmy were arguing about? Being Mr Branson's valet?" Ivy wondered, no one taking any trouble to say that they were going to miss Mr Molesley and they were sorry he was leaving.

"Mr Branson is insistent that he doesn't want a valet," Mr Carson explained, "whether he will change his mind I don't know, but the only position vacant on Mr Molesley's departure will be taking care of the upkeep of Mr Branson's clothes and any other jobs befitting his station. The position of valet however would not be open."

"So Alex got bashed for nothing." Ivy said.

"Ivy, go and check on the stew." Alfred scolded the maid for speaking in so fond a tone of the laid up footman, the girl looking reluctant as she returned to the kitchen.

"This must be hard for you, Mr Barrow." O'Brien said subtly between mouthfuls of soup.

"What?"

"I'm saying this must be hard for you; your best friends fighting like this, James leaving without so much as a goodbye. At least you still have young Alexander, unless he's hiding something too."

"What are you talking about?" Thomas dropped his spoon to his bowl and wiped his mouth with a napkin, ready to verbally combat Miss O'Brien.

"I'm just saying that James was a good boy until he went around bopping people on the head for a lousy job as valet. So maybe Alexander might have the same tendencies. You do tend to attract certain types-"

"You bi-"

"I don't think so, Miss O'Brien." Who knew Anna knew the meaning of good timing? "Alexander isn't like James. James hasn't been right lately, ever since…" Anna's eyes flicked across the table at Mr Barrow, not wanting to make him feel guilty at what she would have said next, but Thomas had no time for her pity or caution, as well meant as it was.

"London. Right? London." Anna's silence confirmed that was what she was thinking. "In case you had forgotten I was there too, but you don't see me going 'round attacking people."

"No, but you have-"

"What?" Thomas' eyes shot up at Alfred, who had dared to speak, waiting for the same lines he gave to Alex in his room like the script of a long running stage play.

"You changed; is all I'm saying."

"Well don't say. I'm still the same as I always was." Thomas pressed his lips firmly together, itching for a cigarette which he would always smoke when contemplating something unreasonable. "I don't care what you lot think."

"All right everyone, that'll do." Mr Carson addressed the table, predicting an argument would otherwise be on the horizon. "James has gone, he made amends with any shame he brought to this household by doing so, but now for Alexander's sake I suggest we keep silent about the matter. It is done, and I will have words with anyone who intends to rake up the past for the sake of a good gossip. There is still work to be done, the world has not stopped turning."

"Will there be another footman?" Ivy piped up excitedly as she bounded in from the kitchen, her brief interlude bringing the option to mind now Downton was without a second footman.

Mr Carson, though he didn't appreciate the maid's enthusiasm towards the situation, didn't mind the distraction of it. "That is under consideration, but in all likelihood… yes." The luck the ladies of the house, up and down, had had with the footmen as of late, made them most excited to see just what the next one would be like.

* * *

"Morning, Thomas." Alex said, as Thomas came into his room the next morning for what would be the final day of his confinement, having been given the Doctor's seal of approval to return to work the next day.

"Alex. How are you?" Thomas smiled, taking a seat, next to the young Viscount's bed.

"I'm better thank you. Think I'll be good as new tomorrow. Except for the scar that is. I'm trying to arrange my hair to cover it, else Mr Carson's character and reputation will no doubt be disgraced at dinner." The young man laughed half- heartedly in a way Thomas was all too familiar with. "Speaking of reputations, I hear you're trying to change yours."

"What do you mean?"

"When Alfred brought up my dinner today, he said that if I hadn't more or less confirmed your sufferings to him, he never would have thought it, seeing as you've done a one hundred and eighty degree turn back to the old Mr 'sod the world' Barrow."

"I told you; from here on in I'm looking out for number one." Thomas took that opportunity to light a cigarette, in all appropriateness to his attitude.

"You don't want them to think you're nice?"

"Weak." Thomas corrected him, "Niceness is weakness."

"Since when?"

"I won't let what the Duke did make me weak," Thomas blew over Alex's question, "Alfred's shown me that much."

"They wouldn't think you're weak."

"Can't risk it."

Alex cocked his head at the impossibility of his friend and took the book from his side table and threw it into Thomas' lap. "Here."

"What?" The under butler turned the book in his hands to see Alex was still reading _The Black Tulip_.

"Read to me, unless you're too much of an armoured bastard now to do that."

"I think I can read a few words. Don't expect me to put on the voices." Thomas left his cigarette in the conveniently placed ash tray on Alex's side table.

"And you played the young girlish Rosa so well." Alex put on his most disappointed face.

"I only did it the once as a joke." Thomas reminded the smirking footman, while the under butler tried to find the right page to start on with Alex's help, and began to read in what he attempted to be a sonorous voice, but only came out as monotonously dull; the result of Thomas taking himself far too seriously. ""Oh Rosa, take good care of it and we shall soon see it grow quickly", "Can I take more care of it?" said she; "indeed I think of nothing else but the tulip." "Of nothing else, Rosa? Why now, I shall grow jealous in my turn." "Oh you know that to think of the tulip is to think of you; I never lose sight of it. I see it from my bed; on my awaking, it is the first object that meets my eyes; and on falling asleep, the last on which they rest. During the day I sit and work by its side, for I have never left my chamber since I put it there."'"

"Thomas…" Alex stopped the reading for a moment. "Thank you."

"Funnily enough it takes me mind off things."

"Do you still think about the Duke?" Alex asked carefully.

"Do you think about Jimmy?" Thomas believing his question provided the answer for his own, both men lucky they didn't have to answer the other as the look they exchanged was enough.

"I was lucky that he hit me over the head first," Alex said, "I don't really remember it. God knows I've tried. I just feel dirty all the time, dirty and exposed. Do you think he'll come back?"

"Maybe it's best that he doesn't. For both of our sakes."

"He betrayed us both. I can't imagine how hard it must be for you, on top of everything else."

"For _me_? I'm fine. Don't need to worry about me." Thomas took up his cigarette and absorbed himself in enjoying it, that and the book in his other hand, to wane any doubts from Alex that he could still be struggling and just putting on that brave front. "Things can only get better now; they're talking upstairs about Lord Gillingham visiting with his friend."

"Oh yes. Excited about that are we?" Alex raised an eyebrow at the prospect of seeing his friend in action by concocting scandalous shenanigans.

"There's opportunity."

"For..?"

"We'll see when it arrives." Thomas said ominously, "For now at least I've made enquiries into the doings of Mr Charles Blake." Thomas rubbed his hands together, hungry for the scheme that could unfold in his mind.

"Whatever for?"

"For anything useful to me." He darkly took a drag of his cigarette, while Alex maintained a look of suspicion upon him, not wanting to give the appearance of condoning or condemning his friend just yet.

"Like what?"

"I don't know yet, we'll have to see when his housekeeper writes back."

Alex wanted no part in Thomas' schemes, not even aware that Thomas was acquainted with Blake's housekeeper and that he had written to her. "'_We_'ll have to see'? Whatever you're up to, I'm sure I want nothing to do with it."

"Fine, I won't say anymore then." Thomas sat back, completely uninterested in bringing Alex around.

"Thomas... I know you want to reclaim yourself, but I hope you're not doing it for the wrong reasons." Alex said concernedly.

"I'm doing it so I can be meself again. Wouldn't you want the same?" Thomas' words aiming straight for Alex's well kept secret, and it didn't fail in its strike.

"But at what cost?" Alex asked quietly.

"I've already paid enough, now it's time for me dividends."

"So if you go back to exactly how you were before; the lying cheating Thomas Barrow, then nothing has changed, you will have suffered for nothing."

"That's because I did suffer for nothing." Thomas stubbed out his cigarette, not wanting to stay and listen to his 'friend' insulting him after he had been lying to him from the moment they shook hands.

"Then you learnt nothing from it and you will be miserable your whole life," Alex argued.

"I learnt that I trust good looking men too easily." Thomas looked at Alex bitterly, including the bed ridden footman in his remark.

"You can be a bastard, you can look out for yourself, but you don't have to go out of your way to hurt other people to do it. Just think about that when your housekeeper friend writes back."

The door shut behind Thomas, muting any more of Alex's sensibilities. Of course Alex would oppose his plans, Alex was one of _them_ after all; one of those aristocrats he would go out of his way to undo. However, when Thomas would receive the letter from his housekeeper friend two days later and read her words of her employer's movements, of his character flaws and his bad habits, he knew that he could use what he read in so many ways, but what good would it do? It wouldn't change that he was raped, that his closest friend wasn't who he said he was, that he was a criminal in a homophobic world, and he would die alone. Thomas wouldn't encourage a trip to jail, but he would live, he wouldn't live honestly, but he wouldn't let them win, his nature made him a criminal, but he wouldn't give them anymore reason to beat him. He took that letter, and he put it in the waste bin, not destroying it just in case he changed his mind.


	42. Intervention

**Thank you for reading, and for reviews.**

**Apologies for any spelling/ grammar mistakes.**

**Warning for sexual content.**

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Jimmy enjoyed his first two days of work in London; it kept him distracted and Joe was always around for a joke and laugh. Just as he was there to distract any customers who being too friendly towards the new man, and that took up most of his time. Jimmy was very popular among the customers; at least twenty managed to get his name after the first night, and at least half of those cared enough to remember it on the second. He gathered a lot of attention, being the new man always did that, but seeing Joe through the crowds, giving each other a shrug and a smile, was reassuring. One thing could be said; the atmosphere, and the people absorbed by it, were more enticing than anything they sold behind the bar, and Jimmy could see why Thomas had stuck around here for so long.

Since Jimmy and Joe worked nights it was more common for them to breakfast together rather than go out for an evening drink. Jimmy didn't trust himself to be alone with people, and so he still resisted going back to Joe's when he asked, and never invited him back to his own flat. It was hard not to say yes to Joe, because Jimmy hated being alone, it only gave him the opportunity to think about what he had done and what new ways he could punish himself, as he didn't want it to be obvious, he didn't want people to know. He took to reopening his stomach wound initially, that was until his neighbour offered him some kind of foreign drug, which apparently was good for relaxing the mind. Jimmy decided it was worth a try on the third night.

The fourth night, he and Joe had their first evening off together, using the time to go out for a drink, or several. Joe was an attractive guy; Jimmy found that without all the fakery of make- up and his over the top façade he was even more attractive, it matured him, made him seem older; and Jimmy sought that in a man, and after the persuasion of a few drinks he could find the courage to seize what he sought. He didn't ask Joe to come back with him that night, but rather dragged him back; it seeming the most natural scenario after going out for the evening, and Joe was the kind of lad who brought the party with him and it was hard to let go of his company. They formed a two man conga line up the stairs to Jimmy's flat and kicked the door open, singing jovially (not to mention, loudly) until they collapsed on the collapsible sofa which, according to Jimmy, wasn't supposed to be collapsible. After adjusting their legs on the floor they continued their tune, harmonising with each other passionately as the song reached its finale. It didn't come too late as there was a banging on the ceiling, followed by a shrill voice from upstairs, "Here! Quiet down down there! You hear?! Ruffians!" The two lads were too far gone to take any notice of what sounded like an old biddy and called back. "Shut up!" "Quiet down yourself when we're harmonising!" With muffled threats of calling the police passing through the thin ceiling the two youngsters shook their heads and laughed. Clinking their bottles of beer and taking a swig.

"Nice place you've got here." Joe said, looking around the dank flat.

"Nice? It's a hole." Jimmy spluttered through his uncontrolled laughter.

"Maybe a little, but you've got some homey touches."

"Like what?"

"I dunno, like that dead rat in the corner there." They sniggered as Joe pointed at the ball of fur lying up against the wall in the corner, it wouldn't have been noticeable had the pair not fallen to the floor aboard the 'collapsible' sofa.

"That's Trevor." Jimmy said, taking a drink.

"Trevor… the rat?" Joe found it hard to believe that Jimmy was the kind of person who named the dead vermin in his flat instead of disposing of them.

"Yeah, yeah, been with me since I arrived, look." Jimmy, not having the strength to stand just yet, made do with crawling over to the mass, and started talking to it. "Trevor, Trevor wake up, we've got company."

"Jim, I think it's dead." Joe hiccupped.

"No, he's not dead!" Jim said in awe.

"What?"

"He's not dead," Jim began, scooping up the mass, much to Joe's horror; "Because it's a hat!" He turned around, pulling a stupidly posed face with the fur hat on his head wonkily, one of the ear flaps covering his eye. Joe, who had his bottle to his lips, spat beer all over the floor at Jimmy's action.

"Oh god, Jim, take it off! Take it off!"

"Why? You want it?" Jimmy threw the hat at Joe, who shook it off him and kicked it across the room. Joe set down his beer on the floor and lay back on the sofa. Jimmy crawled back over and sat beside Joe, shoulder to shoulder.

"What made you invite me back this time then?" Joe smiled.

"I dunno." Jimmy replied, putting his bottle down on the floor. "I feel comfortable with you and we were having such a good time, I don't remember ever having such a good time."

"Me neither."

Joe was experienced. He could read signs, and knew that Jimmy was giving them to him. It was the alcohol, the lingering attraction between them, and in the job Joe had he didn't much chance to form relationships, at least none that didn't involve paying for it and he wasn't about to miss the chance of being with someone his own age, who wanted him for him, and who _he_ could choose to be with. Joe didn't know that Jimmy was inexperienced at this sort of thing, that he had done nothing but kiss another man, and he was even doubting his memory of doing that; as with Thomas it was such a rare occurrence, but Joe didn't have to know that. Jimmy wasn't going to wait for Joe to make the first move, but Joe had the same idea for himself. Their kiss was not so tentative that they had to part after just a small closed mouth kiss, they didn't need to reassure each other that it was what they both wanted, their mouths opened, Joe's tongue played with the end of Jimmy's, his hand moving smoothly through his hair while Jimmy removed Joe's jacket. The pair mounted the sofa, lying across it Jimmy crawled over Joe, kissing him wetly with every ounce of passion he had saved for Thomas, but Thomas didn't want it. Joe's hands were caressing his chest and neck, pulling him closer so he could undo the buttons on Jimmy's shirt, the latter mirroring Joe's movements. He looked down, wanting to catch a glimpse of Joe's body. The youth was thin, not too thin but not muscular, that was how they liked them at the club, and Jimmy had no quarrel against that.

Joe pushed Jimmy's shirt from his shoulders and finished undoing his own in a hurry to get the blonde undressed. Jimmy felt the smoothness of Joe's sides, and ran his fingers up his delicate chest. He was so warm yet his nipples were hardened by the night coolness and his arousal, Jimmy traced his thumbs around them in tiny circles, while keeping Joe's lips against his. Joe fingered Jimmy's scars, his beautiful skin with that single blood line across him, the blonde kissing down Joe's jawline and into his neck, he had been waiting so long for this, being this way with another man, it felt so natural he wondered how he could have ever thought this was wrong.

"I must confess," Spoke Joe with heavy breaths, "I thought I was barking up the wrong tree when you turned me down three nights in a row."

"Don't be daft." Jimmy replied, touching his forehead to Joe's, his hand on the top of his chest, fingertips working together in a circle against the other man's skin. "Who wouldn't want you?"

"Thomas never."

"Thomas is an idiot." Jimmy kissed him lightly on the lips. "You're beautiful."

"What happened here?" Joe asked before Jimmy could lean in for an open mouthed kiss. They both looked down at Joe's fingers tracing gently over Jimmy's wound.

"Wrong time, wrong place." Jimmy's eyes averted to the wall, tightening his lips.

"Now?"

"Then. Maybe I should have warned you-" Jimmy said, thinking that maybe Joe was asking out of shallowness.

"No. I like them. They make you look dangerous. Are you dangerous?" Joe breathed into Jimmy's lips.

"You have no idea." His lips sank into Joe's, tongues locked, humming echoed in their open mouths and the sound of zips going simultaneously. Jimmy saw Joe's erection spring from his trousers, just as Joe saw Jimmy's and they both knew what was going to happen. Joe's clean fingertips gently stimulated the head of Jimmy's penis as Jimmy took down Joe's trousers, the young man being under no will to keep them on. Jimmy had never made preparations before, he wasn't sure what to do, it wasn't something he would have been told growing up. He hoped Joe would take the lead, but when the younger man was lying naked under him and Jimmy's penis was angling towards him, furiously quivering with sensitivity, he looked to the blonde to make those preparations, Joe being restricted in his movements to do it himself; Jimmy's first mistake. Jimmy kept kissing Joe, hoping that if he did maybe the other would forget and he could just get away with slipping himself in, but instead Joe was forced to ask and the response was not was expected, as there came a knock at the door.

"Expecting someone?" Joe asked.

"No." Could it be the police? Did the lady from upstairs ring? Could Thomas or Alex have rung?

"Just ignore them, they'll go away." Joe said, kissing along Jimmy's shoulder, but the knock kept up persistently.

"Jimmy! Open up! It's Luke!" Jimmy looked at the door in shock at the voice coming from the other side, and suddenly felt shame at what he was doing. "Jimmy! I know you're in there! Open the door!"

Jimmy scrambled off Joe, pulling his trousers on hurriedly and went to the door. "Go away!" He called._ How does Luke know I'm here?_

"Not until I talk to you, I'll wait all night if I have to, open the door. Come on." Luke banged still louder.

Jimmy gritted his teeth and reluctantly opened the door, curious to know what Luke wanted and thinking that the stay would be brief. "Can't you take a hint?"

"No." Luke pushed his way in, seeing Joe half naked on the sofa, since he also thought to put on his trousers, it didn't stop Luke giving him a reproving look in greeting. "Evening."

"Oh, evening handsome." Joe said from the sofa, raising his eyebrows at the tall blonde haired arrival. _Could this be my lucky day?_

"How did you find me?" Jimmy asked Luke, not bothering to introduce Joe to Luke.

"Let's just say I'm well practiced."

"At following people?"

"Apparently."

"Go home, Luke. Go back to your fancy man." Jimmy sneered bitterly.

"Don't be like that, Jim." Joe said, his lust reigning his tongue. "Maybe he could stay?" He ran his tongue suggestively along his top lip before smiling saucily.

"Oh, _I'm_ staying, but you're not." Luke said, but Joe didn't want to give in to the handsome straight-legged stranger and hoped that the night might still end his way despite the negative signals he was receiving.

"Come on… Luke, is it?"

"Get out!" Luke ordered, going over to the youth and salvaging his clothes for him, ready to take him by the arm if he must and show him out by force if necessary.

"Alright, alright, no need to man handle me." Joe said, shaking Luke off him and making his way to the open door. "See you at work, Jim. Luke, come down to the club sometime, bring your 'fancy man' with you. I'll give you a discount." He clicked his tongue and winked, Luke shutting the door behind him.

"Who was that?" Luke asked Jimmy, who went over to the sofa to retrieve his shirt which he threw on for some kind of warmth.

"A friend." Jimmy folded his arms, cross that his night had been intruded upon.

"More than that; looks like."

"It's none of your business."

"You can't live like this." Luke sighed, looking around the dilapidated apartment and at the young man before him.

"It's none of your business!" Jimmy repeated.

"Yes it is. My sister cares very much for you, as do Darren and I, and I won't let you do this to yourself."

"You would if you knew what I did." Jimmy looked down at the floor, hoping that Luke wouldn't ask him to explain.

"I _do_ know."

"What?"

"My sister told me after Darren called her about why you were in Arkwright's buying a Cavour suit."

"Then you know what I am, and you should go, just leave me here."

"I'll leave, but not without you. Get your things."

"What?" Jimmy thought he hadn't heard correctly, he couldn't have.

"You're coming to stay with me and Darren."

Apparently he did hear right, but the implication was terrifying, to live with two others, two men, two good looking men, two gay men. Men like Alex. "No, I couldn't. I won't."

"What? You think you're going to try and rape us too?"

"You shouldn't speak so lightly of it."

"I'm not afraid to say what needs to be said, or do what needs to be done. You may think my sister is a meddlesome creature, but you don't know me half as well." Luke told him with a smile penetrating the hard line of his lips. "We'll take you to the doctor's-"

"But-"

"For your wound." Luke pocketed his hands so he wouldn't point at it, the red still visible through the white of Jimmy's shirt. Luke had been in the war and was used to seeing wounds, and could tell even from where he was stood that Jimmy's wound had reopened recently, and not of its own accord. "And if you want more help, which I think you should get, then you can ask at the same time." Though Luke suspected the doctor might refer him anyway.

"What about Darren? Does he know you're here asking me this?"

"He'll know soon enough."

"Won't he mind?"

"No. He won't have chance to either, he's had to stay the night out of the city, to tailor for a client who's been taken ill and can't leave the house. He'll be back in the morning and he won't be able to say anything if you're already there."

"You shouldn't do this." Jimmy said, not understanding why Luke was risking so much, especially his relationship with Darren when what Luke said indicated that Darren would have a problem with this.

"Tough. Get your things, I'll wait here." A wooden chair scraped back from the two seated table by the window and Luke sat down on it. "After we've been to the doctor's we'll stop by Cavour and you can hand in your resignation, effective immediately, no argument."

"What am I supposed to do then?"

"Then you'll come with me to the Ritz, lucky for you it's the busy season and the manager owes me a favour." Luke crossed his leg over the other in some satisfaction and authority which couldn't be challenged.

"Why are you doing this? Don't you care about what I've done?"

"Of course I do, I won't deny it disgusts me, even though you didn't know what you were doing, and you're lucky that poor boy doesn't remember much about it and that Thomas was there to stop you before you finished the job-"

"So why are you doing this?"

"Because I saw the man you were, and it wasn't this, for everyone's sake I want to help bring him back. Even if it's to stop you from hurting someone else."

"Did Victoria put you up to this?" This seeming like something she would do; intervention being her speciality.

"No, she doesn't know I'm here, in fact she gave me specific instructions to stay away from you."

"She did?" Jimmy said sadly, if _she_ wasn't willing to help him then maybe he did deserve to rot in this 'hole', but he looked up at the older man sat before him in the shadows, fearless, forcing his help upon him even though they hardly knew each other. Maybe he was worth something after all. "But you're here."

"Apparently so."

"I don't know what to say." Jimmy cracked a smile, for as long as he could allow it to last.

"Say nothing. Get your things. I'll wait here."


	43. Your Grace

**Thank you for reading, and for your reviews.**

**Apologies for any spelling/ grammar mistakes.**

**I know that Jimmy has gone and everything seems a bit hopeless (especially since I'm the one writing this and I always make things go from bad to worse :P ) but I want to assure you that I still have some twists up my sleeve yet to come and things will begin to lighten up (even I can't be that tragic all the time), I only hope I don't disappoint :)**

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Thomas kept a notebook in his bed side drawer. He had never used it, but he felt that it was about time he did. So when he got up he wrote on the first page a single sentence. 'Don't let them make you a victim.' It felt wrong to write it, but he had no choice, because he wasn't really a victim, not anymore, who the victim was was clear when Thomas went downstairs and saw Alex, that wound refusing to leave his head. If Thomas was heterosexual he would have been extremely jealous of the attention Alex was getting from all the women, worrying about him, offering to do things for him. If Victoria was here she'd soon shoo them all away, it wouldn't be long before she was back anyhow, Christmas was only a few days away and the staff wouldn't let up reminding him of it, the mistletoe being the first thing to go up. Thomas wondered whether it would just be easier for the maids to attach some to a stick and fix it over their heads, like a permanent kissing trap, but obviously Mr Carson would have something to say about that.

Thomas knew everyone was talking about him, avoiding him, just like in the old days, he'd be around for a bit of unsavoury gossip, but aside from that he had no time for anyone, anyone except Alex, and so when he took a seat next to the newly promoted first footman the women scattered and left the room, Thomas smiling victoriously while Alex shook his head at the change in his standoffish friend's character.

"So, heard what Jimmy's doing in London?" Alex said before Thomas could gloat about how he had got his fearsome under Barrow-ness back.

"It's confirmed, he's working in an all- male night club." Thomas' eyebrows making a provocative yet disapproving suggestion.

"Ah. I see. Not as..?" Alex mirrored Thomas' eyebrows movements with a bob of his head to indicate something unsavoury that was not fit for the servant's hall, even though it was empty.

"I don't know, all Victoria said was that he's working in Cavour, she doesn't know anything more and has ordered Luke and Darren to stay away from him. I imagine he'll be waiting table or behind the bar, but after what he's done it wouldn't surprise me if he did more than that."

"I suppose that means he's not coming back." Alex said with some relief, but also with the feeling that if that be the case he would never get closure for what happened, and maybe he'd never have a chance at remembering, maybe he wouldn't want to remember, but knowing there was a portion missing from his life, no matter how bad it was, he'd want to know it for himself.

"Good riddance. Though knowing Cavour he probably had to use my name to get a job there so quickly. The bastard." Thomas cursed, lighting a cigarette.

"If it keeps him away, then I'm sure we can allow it this once." Alex said taking a sip of the tea one of the maids had generously brought in for him. "I didn't know you were so well connected."

"I'm not as well connected as you are… Your Grace." Thomas didn't know why he said it, why here, why now, but he did, it was out there now and he knew once he had started he could see it through to its finish, and this chapter, this staggeringly nagging chapter of their friendship, needed to be addressed and it needed to be over.

"'Your Grace'?" Alex laughed, returning his cup to the saucer, trying to play the situation coolly. "Are we role playing, Your Majesty?"

"_I_ would be, Your Grace." Alex looked over to Thomas, his face a mask until he could divine from the under butler's features just exactly how much he knew, but there was no mistaking the sincerity and with it the knowledge of the truth.

"How long?" Was all Alex could say.

"After Jimmy attacked you, I brought you upstairs, and you gave me a letter. Told me you lied, that you were leaving, that you killed your father."

Alex closed his eyes at the last phrase and he bit his lip, taking a moment to gather himself. "And you're only confronting me with it now?"

"I wanted to see if I could still trust you, and it weren't exactly easy to believe; that we have a French Viscount hiding out in our kitchen. We all knew you didn't belong downstairs but we never thought it were true. I don't know if you meant to kill your father, but you were only guilty of doing what you had to to survive. If my father did to me what yours did to you, I'd want to kill him too. Tell me, before you came here had you ever polished a pair of shoes?" Thomas smiled and put his cigarette to his lips.

Alex's lips tightened and broadened into a smile of relief at the torture Thomas had put him through, and what he had put himself through, wondering every day whether to tell Thomas the truth, but finding out the under butler knew the truth all along was shattering. "No," Alex confessed, "but I can play the violin."

"That's all right then."

The pair laughed, but Thomas' silence disturbed Alex. "Is that all?"

"What else is there?" Now the truth was out between them, Thomas was unaware anything else needed to be spoken.

"You're not going to call me a murderer? A liar? A fraud? You're not going to call the police?"

Thomas relaxed the cigarette in his hands and stared at the end burning away between his gloved fingers and spoke into the glow. "Did you mean it- when you told Alfred that you would have taken it to keep it from me?"

"Yes."

"Do you know what he did to me?"

Alex shook his head, "It wouldn't change my mind."

Thomas looked around and then glanced up at the clock, they would be undisturbed for at least five minutes, so he could say what he was going to, no matter how hard it was it was time to say it, in this moment where he believed that he could. "I'm never going to say this again, so don't speak." Alex leaned forward slightly, to better hear Thomas whose voice had quietened solemnly, "He raped me, Alex. He beat me with that poker, the same poker that still sits in the guest bedroom. He made me tell him I loved him as he hit me, as he threatened to kill Jimmy. Have you ever begged for death, Alex? Have you ever felt that you were dying, but never more alive? That you were drifting through an endless fire just waiting to entomb you, melting your skin, burning your bones, but still you were as awake as in the first second?"

"No, but that's all the more reason why I would want to keep that from you."

"I would call you a killer, I should. I should call you a liar, a fraud, and a traitor, but I can't." Thomas looked up, Alex's shoulders slumping at the glazed look in Thomas' eyes, "I will keep your secret, Alex, but I won't bow to you, I won't treat you like a Count, but I won't treat you as a killer." He said through gritted teeth to hold back his moans.

"All I want is for you to treat me like your footman. With you, in this house, I will always be Alex. But I don't know if I'm capable of being your first footman, I told you; I've never polished a pair of shoes before I came here."

"I'll teach you. Besides, you're more mature than our last first footman." Thomas discretely wiped his eyes with the appearance that perhaps he only had something caught in them, "Mr Carson is putting out an advertisement for a second footman now we know Jimmy has a job in London."

"That's good, it's no good to wait on these things."

"I agree." Thomas nodded, finally returning the cigarette back to his lips, hoping it may just ease him back into a state of calm.

"Have you told anyone?" Alex swallowed, though it seemed obvious that he hadn't, Alex wanted to discern more than anything that Thomas wouldn't tell anyone.

"Why would I?" Thomas mumbled through his cigarette.

"I thought you might have told Victoria."

"No. Not yet."

"So you will tell her." Thomas talked enough about the girl, but not having met her himself Alex could not yet trust her and what she might do or say, no matter how confident Thomas was in her discretion.

"She's the one person I don't like lying to. If it weren't for her I'd be with the Duke right now, or I'd be dead. If you can trust me you can trust her. She won't say 'owt."

"Are you sure?" Alex said, fear choking his voice.

"Yes. Don't think I don't know you keep a bag packed upstairs in case you have to leg it."

Alex scratched the back of his neck, Thomas' presumption may have been a guess, but it was a very good one. "I don't expect you to bear my burdens, Thomas, and I don't expect Victoria to either. Of course I would prefer to stay, but I will gladly go if it will ease your mind."

"It wouldn't. So unpack your things." Not that Alex would, just as a precaution.

"You're not going to ask me if it was an accident?"

"Do I need to?"

Alex then did something Thomas did not expect, he reached out to Thomas' fingers and extracted the cigarette from between them and brought it to his own lips. It had been a long time since Thomas had shared a cigarette with anyone, the last person was probably the Duke, but with the nature of the conversation and Alex's open personality, the act was not so surprising. Thomas didn't close his fingers on his cigarette or make any utterances of objection as his fingers were unburdened. "I never liked my father." Alex began, smoke pouring between his pert lips, "He never understood why I preferred playing the violin and going to the theatre rather than hunt and attend balls to meet young ladies. He sent me to England to get me as far away from him as possible, yet I still had nightmares about him dying on the battlefield. He was ashamed of me; his eldest son, his heir, told me I was weak to fear him dying, that I was soft. When my brother was born my father was given the son he wanted, he could forget about me, and I was happy for him to. But when I came back to visit my mother and other brother, I met Damien, my valet. We kept our relationship secret for a while until we grew a little too confident and my father caught us together. Damien was sacked. I was disinherited. Even though my father suspected my preferences he never thought I would tell him that I, his heir, would never marry a woman I didn't love, even if it was my duty, and wouldn't give him grandchildren. That was that, my father threatened to marry me off to some rich filly in Spain or something. I got angry, we argued, I pushed him, he fell and hit his head. I panicked. I panicked and I ran."

Thomas paused for a while, taking the cigarette back off Alex once he had a second draw of it, and scrutinised the young man, how very normal he seemed. "You have brothers?" Thomas asked, giving a curious look.

"That's what you took from that? That I have brothers?" Alex exclaimed, to which Thomas gave one of his complacent shrugs. "Francois and Phillipe." Alex responded finally, knowing that Thomas wasn't asking out of dark humour. "My father hated Francois because Francois loved me and did everything as I did, except sleep with men of course, but Phillipe hated Francois and I. Phillipe was always the favourite, the heir my father wanted. Phillipe would see me hanged whether I was innocent or not."

"Now you _have_ to stay." Thomas concluded, not taking death as an option for his noble friend. "By the way; do you know the Duke of Crowborough?"

"What?" Alex blinked.

"When you spoke to Alfred about it, it sounded like you knew him."

"From around." Alex said uneasily. "Certain circles. I was merely surprised that it was him, everyone always said how charming he is." Alex had been one of those people, ever since he met the Duke at his college friend's home, where they were both guests at a ball arranged for the latter's sister to attract suitors for her. Alex was never enticed by the Duke, taking him to be a political man who never means what he says unless it plays to his own advantage, he had met him several times since, but thought it best not to give that information to Thomas.

"He is charming." Thomas mused. "That's why I fell for him… twice."

"So long as there's not a third time."

"Why? Jealous?"

"Of what? Him? Oh, you wish." Alex scoffed.

"Don't go in for Counts."

"Why? Too regal for you? Maybe you should try after Lord Gillingham, after all, he and Mr Green are coming back tomorrow with that Mr Blake. Speaking of whom; have you had a reply from that woman friend of yours; that housekeeper?"

"No." Thomas lied.

Alex raised his cup of tea with his now steady hand and took a sip of its cold sugary contents, and just said, "Good."

'For him, maybe.' Thomas thought, that piece of paper always at the back of his mind, whether he would use it or not would depend on the events of the next day, more precisely on just what this Mr Blake looked like and what his preferences were, and balancing parts of Thomas were most eager and frightened to find out.


	44. The Houseguest

**Thank you so much for reading, and for reviews. :D**

**Apologies for any spelling/ grammar mistakes.**

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It was settled, Jimmy had unpacked his things, what little things there were, he left Trevor the dead hat back at the flat, he now only had his work suits to his name, which were now useless to him, along with a small suitcase of essentials which turned out to be not so essential when in an emotional state he trod on his toothpaste, and accidently threw his straight edge and small mirror out of the window after using them to assist in opening his wounds the second time. First stop after 'unpacking' would have to have been a quick shop, as there was no way he could go to Ritz with the stubble that had invaded his chin, but the hour was late, so first thing in the morning it would have to be. In spite of his reluctance to cooperate with Victoria's brother; Jimmy identified him as someone he could get on with. After the first impression- which it was as now that first time they met was from another time, another life and did not matter- Jimmy judged Luke to be kind and confident of an uncommon nature, and strangely understanding of Jimmy's situation which the youth refused to take for granted and would not question. By the next morning however, Jimmy adjusted his assessment of Luke as it turned out that he had the makings of a bastard. His host called for him twice to wake up, because they had appointments at the doctor's and the Ritz, and Jimmy's newly purchased toiletries (which Luke had to go and buy for him while Jimmy slept in) had not been put to use yet, but the youth wouldn't stir. On the third call with a response of 'ten more minutes' Luke barged into the guest room and threw a jug of cold water over Jimmy's head. Luke made up for it by getting the youngster cleaned up and dressed, looking like a picture when they finally went from the apartment, having to jog to the doctor's to make his appointment on time.

Just like Luke thought; Jimmy was referred to a psychiatrist after the doctor suspected Jimmy had purposely reopened his wounds. Jimmy wasn't happy about it, especially seeing Luke's 'I told you so' grin when he told him, not that there was anything wrong with him, he was just a bad person who hurt everyone he cared about, and there was nothing anyone could do about it. Then Luke dragged Jimmy (almost literally) to the Ritz to talk with Luke's manager who agreed, under immense pressure from the forceful Luke, who had to use wiles that Jimmy didn't think a man was capable of possessing, to convince him to work as a waiter so long as he had the proper attire. Jimmy suspected the manager was like them, like most of the men who worked in his bar downstairs, and that he would have fancied a bit of the straight legged man who towered over him, biting his bottom lip with a gleaming smile and shaking back his bright fair hair, an action which he explained after to Jimmy always succeeded in manipulating men like them to his will. The manager was putty in his hands. Maybe this would be a trick Jimmy would have to remember.

* * *

After what felt like a successful Christmas Eve morning, Luke was eager for more good news in the form of his lover who was expected back soon from his work appointment, but when they returned to the flat there was no sign of Darren, much to Luke's disappointment and Jimmy's relief (suspecting that Darren would not be as happy as Luke was to see him there). The pair went to Jimmy's room to fix it up with a couple of purchases they had made after their stop at the Ritz; namely pictures, a clock, and some temporary hooks for some of his clothes. It turned out that Luke and Jimmy were both as useless as each other with DIY, so by the end of it the five pictures they bought had narrowed down to three owing to breakages, but they both saw the funny side of it. Jimmy was impressed by how Luke had taken him in his stride and treated him normally, he could feel normal, he could feel like himself, that was until Darren came home just in time for dinner.

"Luke! I'm home, thank god. It was a nightmare!" There was no reply, but Darren took off his shoes, set down his bag and continued on with his story. "I don't know why I had to go down there, there was nothing wrong with him except for a sniffle, but he was convinced that he had pneumonia. The train journey was dull, no scenery at all, and the room he gave me to stay in was dank, dark, and miserable, like the place in my mind that occupies thoughts about women." The thirty year old removed his hat and shook flakes of snow from his brown curls. "If he didn't pay me extra I would have darned his custom, but he did pay me extra so it was justified, lucky for him… Luke?"

"Darren?" Luke's golden head popped out from around the corner just hearing the faint sound of his lover's voice from the hall way.

"There you are." Darren grinned, meeting Luke with a warm embrace, while the latter helped him off with his icy coat.

"Sorry, I was in the spare room," Luke apologised, "were you talking to me?" Once the coat had been shed the pair shared a much awaited kiss, not used to spending the night so far apart from each other.

"I was, actually."

"I've told you before that you shouldn't tell me about your day when you literally get in the door." Luke chuckled, resisting tugging at Darren's cheek patronisingly.

"Maybe you should meet me when I come in then we won't have this argument every day." Darren placed a soothing kiss on Luke's cheek, avoiding having to stand on tip toes to reach his lover's temple. "You didn't hear anything I said?"

"Uh… no, but it'll keep, we have something more important to discuss." Luke took Darren's hand leading him into the living room, giving him the same look he gave his manager to relax Darren into his surroundings before revealing his news to the unsuspecting tailor.

"Oh yeah?" Darren smiled in anticipation as Luke drew the older man into his arms, who pressed his lips into Luke's, clawing at the small of the blonde's back with his fingertips, which made Luke go up on his tip toes. "What were you doing in the spare bedroom?" Darren whispered into Luke's neck, trailing kisses down to his collarbone.

"Hello, Darren." The tailor's eyes popped open at the unfamiliar voice behind him. Turning his saw the young man who he clearly recognised and was the last thing he was expecting. He blinked in disbelief, that his welcome home would not be an enticing bedroom romp as he hoped… but an argument.

"Jimmy? What are you- what is he doing here?" He directed the question, first at Jimmy, then Luke, drawing himself from the grip of his lover. "No offence." Back to Jimmy, "but this is a little-"

"I know, but I told Jimmy you'd have no problem with him staying with us while he recuperates." Luke explained, putting on a tight lipped smile.

"Staying with-" Darren trailed off, clearing his throat, not wanting to embarrass Jimmy any further than he looked, though after hearing the news of Jimmy's recent actions a little embarrassment might be due, but not by Darren. "Luke, may I have a word?" Darren walked out of the room, Luke giving Jimmy silent gestures that they would just be a minute and it wouldn't be a problem.

"What's wrong?" Luke asked, feigning the validity of his question.

"'What's wrong?' You invite a stranger into our home, a man who has been accused of trying to rape his best friend, and you don't tell me about it!" Darren said through gritted teeth, hand on hip, waiting for an explanation.

"I wouldn't call him a stranger." Luke shrugged.

"It doesn't matter what he is, he could be dangerous." Darren said with all the concern his words were due, feeling betrayed by the man who he never thought would bring an almost rapist into their home without telling him, maybe he didn't know his lover as well as he thought, who was capable of much, but not this.

"He's only dangerous to himself. Do you expect me to leave him in that drug den he was staying in, about to get shagged by an escort? Maybe I should have just given him a straight edge and be done with it."

"You know I don't, but there are other ways, not inviting him into our home is one of them, telling me about it is another. You must have known I wouldn't agree."

"On the contrary I thought you'd be up for it; helping the less fortunate is right up your street."

"Don't allude to that." Darren warned, knowing Luke was referring to their own history which they went to great pains to refrain from mentioning and neither man had any desire for the mess to resurface now. "I'd rather help the unfortunate boy who the one in _our_ living room tried to rape!"

"We don't know what happened." Luke pointed out.

"Is he denying it?"

"He doesn't remember." Luke said after a pause.

"How unfortunate." Darren sneered. The pair took a moment, Darren rubbed his eyes, stretching his lower lids until his hands covered his mouth. He surveyed his lover who was staring at the floor, scraping the sole of his shoe against the floor impatiently, "Luke, if this is because of what happened to you in the war-"

"Don't." Luke closed his eyes, stubbing his toe on the floor as he halted his movement.

"I know how hard it was for you and how hard it still is for you," Luke groaned and threw himself against the wall in frustration, Darren calling after him, "but don't you think that might have affected your judgement in this?"

"You promised me that we would never talk about that. You promised."

"I know, and I won't, but is that why?"

Before Luke could answer, not that he wanted to, and would wait to answer as long as possible until Darren gave up searching for one, Jimmy appeared from the next room, hands clenched by his sides anxiously, "Sorry, don't want to interrupt, but if me staying here is going to cause problems between the two of you I'd sooner go. I don't want to cause any trouble."

"You're not. Everything is fine." Luke assured him, Darren rolling his eyes at his lover's stubbornness.

"You're very kind, Luke, but I don't think Darren wants me to stay." Jimmy looked at Darren to disagree rather than agree, but instead gave nothing but silence and a general disapproval with his eyes.

"Nonsense, that's not true is it, Darren?" Luke said, approaching his lover, drawing their eyes to meet so he might better convince him, "You don't mind if Jimmy stays now I've forced him from his home and place of work?"

"You're welcome to stay, Jimmy." Darren sighed, tiptoeing slightly up to reach Luke's ear and whisper; "It doesn't mean I'm happy about it though."

"I'll make it up to you." Luke placed one gentle hand on the side of Darren's neck, and one tender hand rubbing the back of his upper thigh, Jimmy taking this as a signal to leave the room, but Darren pushed his lover away, completely uncooperative to Luke's sensual charms.

"I'm not in the mood."

"That's rare for you."

"That's how mad I am. Just wait until your sister hears."

Victoria being one thing Luke hadn't thought of, not that it made much difference, he was substantially older than her and he was infamously more stubborn, and he knew her well enough that she wouldn't stay mad at him, but at the same time he wouldn't want any kind of rift to ruin their Christmases. "Not yet though, please. It is Christmas tomorrow after all."

"One more thing I can be pissed at you about." Darren groaned, "What are we doing about that?"

"I'm not going to my parents because they won't have you, you're not going to your parents because they won't have me, we'll do as we originally planned and stay in then see Victoria later."

"And Jimmy?" Darren bitterly asked, not participating in the slightest in matters regarding the young man, for as far as he was concerned he was only Luke's guest.

"He can eat with us, then maybe go out when Victoria comes over." Luke suggested.

"Subtle. Sly. Absolute ingenuity." Darren said sarcastically, not enjoying the prospect of having their Christmas dinner intruded upon by a confused and potentially dangerous boy.

"I'm glad you think so." Luke said, ignoring Darren's sarcasm.

"Just do me a favour?"

"Anything, my love." Luke draped his arms around Darren's shoulders, expecting some sort of sexual favour to be demanded from him, which he would happily acquiesce to, but Darren removed Luke's arms from him and hung his head, saying; "Don't talk to me for a while."

* * *

Christmas was daunting, Jimmy hadn't even thought about it. Maybe he should call on Joe, the young man did make the offer to him the night before, for his parents wouldn't have him either, then at least Luke and Darren could be together alone. Jimmy went right to bed, giving Luke and Darren some privacy, not that they needed it, and he was tired and could use a midday nap. The room was quite small, but the owners never used it, it was only there as a pretence for Luke and Darren passing themselves off as heterosexual roommates. The accord they seemed to have with their neighbours proved that they were succeeding. He heard a small knock on his door what must have been an hour after his head hit the pillow, and Luke came in, sitting on the edge of Jimmy's single bed, he shook his guest by the shoulder but Jimmy didn't need waking.

"Jimmy, I've managed to convince Darren to let you have Christmas dinner with us tomorrow, but I'm afraid you may have to scarper afterwards, just for a couple of hours when Vic comes round." Luke said softly, absent of the charisma he usually emitted, he seemed more human this way.

"I don't want to cause trouble, Joe asked me to go round to his-"

"Is that the bloke who you were with last night?" Luke asked, his tone hardening.

"Yes."

"Would it just be you and him?" Jimmy nodded. "Then it's out of the question."

"You're not me father."

"And you're certainly not my son, but while you live here you will do as Darren and I tell you." Luke stood to assert his authority, and it certainly worked, Jimmy could see Luke as being the type who, owing to his height, appearance, and confidence, was used to getting his way.

"I didn't ask you to come and get me." Jimmy argued, tired of being babied, everyone feeling a need to take care of him; first Thomas, then Victoria, now Luke.

"I hardly brought you away kicking and screaming though, did I?" Jimmy looked down at the sheet over him, refusing to answer otherwise he'd have to agree with him. "Darren does most of the cooking round here," Luke continued, knowing he had won that short battle, "but you can give him a hand. I know you're going through hell but please try not to do anything to ruin our day, huh?"

"Like what?" Jimmy turned up his lip, like he hadn't caused any trouble in his life, let alone an hour ago.

"Get drunk and attack someone? Harm yourself? Smoke some drugs? Prostitute yourself? That kind of thing." Luke replied tersely, Jimmy sucked in his bottom lip and stared out of the window, trying to block out the man beside him so he might prevent any tears through believing he might not exist, that he was completely alone. He heard Luke sighing behind him, regretting what he said, or at least the timing of it, "I'm sorry, Jimmy, but I only tell it like it is. Just get through tomorrow, eh?"

Luke's footsteps retreated out of the room, and Jimmy knew that Luke was right. Tomorrow was Christmas, and how different it was to how he imagined. He closed his eyes, and pictured all the decorations at Downton, the maids chasing after Thomas and Alex with mistletoe, the under butler and footman running in the other direction. Alfred chasing after Ivy, Mr Carson trying to keep his calm about everything, Miss O'Brien being lonely and miserable while Anna and Mr Bates were all loved up in their cottage making everyone feel even more lonely and desperate than usual. Christmas dinner downstairs, sat with Thomas, touching his fingers under the table. The look on Thomas' face when Jimmy gave him his Christmas present, the present he wouldn't be there to give him, but instead Jimmy arranged with the shop to have it sent to the under butler, not having the heart to call and cancel the order, but more than anything he wished he were there to see him open it. Then afterwards he would have taken his Thomas for a private walk where he would have located a piece of unplucked mistletoe where he could lure Thomas for a kiss, similar to the first that they shared, under the snow, alone, together, maybe even waking up together. Jimmy opened his eyes, saw the dark walls of his room, his foot dangling off the edge of his single bed, the cold touching his freshly bandaged scars, he rolled back and looked at the ceiling, tears flooding his eyes, streaming down his temples. Was Thomas was missing him, what he was doing, and what would his Christmas be like without him, and if he was as miserable as he was?


	45. It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year

**I do apologise for the flip flopping of emotion with regards to Jimmy, one minute hate him, the next minute you feel sorry for him. Not even I'm sure which side of the fence I'm on, so I'm afraid I'm just sat on the top of it really at the moment. In reply to the guest who said about the specialness of Christmas, I do understand, for reasons unknown I was looking forward to writing the Christmas chapters, especially this one, because it can be a bit happy. I've missed writing happy things and so will endeavour to add a bit of humour and joviality where I can from now in amongst the confusion and angst. **

**Also, because of the new series which opened last night here in England (I'm so sorry to those who do not have this advantage), I will be putting in some s4 spoilers, but nothing too major, for instance, the addition of Nanny West. I hope you don't mind. **

**Thank you for reading.**

**Apologies for any spelling/ grammar mistakes**

* * *

Thomas came down to a special breakfast prepared by Mrs Patmore that Christmas morning, he didn't feel special in himself, or festive, or merry, and resented all who did as he passed their hideous smiling forms, taunting his isolation for he secretly wanted to join them, but how could he without letting down his guard? Why was it that Christmas just worsened his feelings when it should be doing the exact opposite? He was ready for another 'sod the world' declaration until Mr Carson handed him a parcel. It had arrived the day before but there were instructions not to present it to Mr Barrow until Christmas day. Thomas had no idea what it could be, in his caution he removed himself from the room and opened it privately. Inside the professionally packaged gift was a pocket watch of silver and he recognised it immediately, it was the same pocket watch that Thomas had walked past many times when he saw it in the window of a clock makers' in Ripon and he coveted it, if he had the money he would have purchased it for himself, but of course he went to the liquor store instead. Thomas wondered who it could have been from, who knew that it was this exact watch he wanted? He wondered until he noticed the card inside the lid that read; 'Meet me by the lake at eight, you have no excuse to be late now. J' Thomas knew no one else with the initial 'J', so there was no doubt that the watch was from Jimmy.

It shook him, he wanted to touch the metal casing, to listen to its cogs at work, but he had to leave it there. It was tainted with the darkness of the sender's latest actions, and Thomas could tell from the note that it had been sent long before what had happened with Alex, before London even. It was a beautiful watch, and it shone with the purity of the buyer, a brightness that had now gone, and no matter what happened Thomas still had trouble remembering that, he lost enough sleep reminding himself of it. Now this would be added to the pile of doubts that would visit him that night when he got out his mental balancing scales, weighing up the deeds of the old Jimmy with the new. No matter how much Thomas wanted to wear it he couldn't, he wasn't ready for that, so without removing the watch from its box he shut the lid and removed the gift to his beside drawer, he would decide later what to do with it, but for now he had to put it from his mind. Hercules' labours might have been an easier challenge.

* * *

Jimmy's gift put a dampener on events, not that Thomas was a great fan of Christmas, he never had been really, he wasn't into all the tradition of universal giving, merriment, and kindness, it wasn't for him, and with the arrival of Mr Blake and Lord Gillingham imminent he could provide an excuse to avoid the mad rush of excitement downstairs. He wouldn't be missed while he did his round of the house to make sure everything was up to scratch for their guests. He wanted to be alone. It was so strange, the end of the year held such promise but two months ago and it had all changed now, that wonderful brightness had faded into a dark shadow from which the under butler could not emerge from, for all his new found confidence he was weak, and he was more tired than when he had the nightmares. He rubbed his hands together as he walked the upstairs corridor, his gunshot wound caressing that scar along his other hand, reminding him of how stupid he had been, both wounds self-inflicted, but both wounds had essentially saved him and constantly gave him cause to remember that he was lucky to be alive. He forgot that when he gave himself the second wound; he was a fool back then, his life meant less to him than it should, not that he knew what to do with it. Alex helped, and he was glad the whole business of 'the Viscount' was over and done with- at least for now- it was one burden he could release his shoulders from. Nothing was the same, Downton was the only constant in his life and he must put himself back into his work and get on, this he must do, unless he wanted to be back on his bedroom floor surrounded by shards of glass just begging him to stroke their pointed razor edges against his skin again.

His thoughts were inappropriate and skulked from his mind when he saw three figures coming towards him, a rotund lady in bonnet and apron, joined by two far smaller figures, one being carried, the other walking as fast as her little legs could carry her to keep up with the older woman. Thomas stopped and for some reason, he didn't know why, he crouched down to the little girl, forcing all three to stop, the older lady, Nanny West, was obviously put out by the under butler's unique show of interest in Miss Sybbie. "Hello, young lady," Thomas said with a genuine toothy smile, "I see you've found your sea legs." Thomas held the young girl's tiny hand in his own, swinging it gently as the little girl smiled with him and emitted a tiny laugh which brought wrinkles to Thomas' cheeks when his smile broadened with hers.

"Don't touch the children without my permission." A harsh voice, laced with the fakery of an innocent kindness, pricked at Thomas' skin like freshly sharpened needles.

"Excuse me?" Thomas rose from his position so he could stare down at the Nanny, managing to keep his smile on his face... just.

"I'm responsible for the children." The Nanny nodded, keeping a rigid smile herself. Thomas could see at once that she was one of those types who always meant harm but gave the impression of goodness simply by adding a smile to every insult.

"But I knew her mother, and you didn't." Thomas said, that smile still hanging on his lips, but had turned into one of snideness.

"That doesn't make you her friend." The Nanny shook her head with a foreboding glare.

"I think you'll find that it does." Thomas informed the ageing Nanny in no uncertain terms, whether it was to just be spiteful or whether he meant it was not obvious to him at that moment, but Nanny West was a fierce creature who refused to bow down to the under butler whose like she clearly thought to be beneath her.

"If you could go down and tell them that the children will be down once I've changed them-"

"Why don't you do it yourself?" Thomas cut her off, not inclined in any shape or form to do anything for this odious woman who left such a bad taste in his mouth, who tried to order _him;_ the under butler, about, not on his watch. The Nanny tightened her lips in offence, but before she could reply Mr Barrow cast his eyes down at little Sybbie, daring to touch the curls of her brown hair with the ends of his fingers, just to make a point, and strode off to finish his work, the thought immediately springing to his mind; 'she'll have to go'.

* * *

"Hello sweetheart, you alright?"

The maid on the receiving end of Green's charms gave a blush of a dangerous hue that could frighten off some small animals, when the thirty-something valet entered Mrs Patmore's domain, hunting for a bit of Christmas affection after the disappointment that Victoria, his original target, was not returning until the next day, but he needed to warm up his skills at least before he saw her, and the young maid before him gave the perfect practice.

"Mr Green." The blushing maid said, swooning ever so slightly at the attentions of the older man.

The valet lured her forward as he leant on the kitchen counter, under the prying eyes of Ivy, Alfred, and Mrs Patmore, the latter ready to pounce at the slightest hint of any inappropriate behaviour, even if it was Christmas,, while the other two gaped, chopping herbs slowly for the fast approaching dinner while they watched the scene before them. "I've got you a Christmas present." Mr Green whispered to the girl.

"Oh aye?"

"If you come under the mistletoe, I'll give it to you." Mr Green puckered his lips mischievously, and if it was possible for the maid to blush furthermore she most certainly did then.

"Mr Green!" She squealed, with shock but not entirely disapproving of the eye catching man tempting her into a most rare moment of debauchery.

"What? It's Christmas!" Mr Green implored her determinedly.

"You're always so forward." The maid batted away Green's hands as they moved to her skirts, ready to pull her under the mistletoe that hung in the entrance way to the servants' hall.

"Not really, but when I come here I feel I should go and stand outside in the snow for a bit." The over- zealous valet raised his eyebrows, nearly succeeding in luring the maid into a kiss had not the under butler come in to save the day, not to mention the girl's dignity.

"I think a bucket of cold water might be more appropriate." Mr Barrow suggested, Green releasing the girl's skirts to square up firmly to the man threatening to ruin his festive cheer.

"Ah, Mr Barrow, how are you?" Green folded his hands behind his back charmingly, not in the mood to start a private war when the rest of day brought such promise, as after the morning rush of guests and refreshments all staff were given the day off.

"Can't complain. Except for troublesome valets causing my staff mischief." Thomas replied, secretly as eager to get away as Green was, looking forward to shedding his uniform for the day and indulging in some Christmas activities with Alex; including stuffing Alfred's pillow with snow.

"Heard Jimmy's gone." Green teased, like he knew it was a proportional response to Thomas' slight. "Oh yes, I heard about that. Miss O'Brien's been filling me in."

"What of it? Why should I care?"

"I can tell you don't by the miserable look on your face. I suppose that's your normal expression though isn't it? You see, I've got you all figured out, Mr Barrow; you never have fun for fun's sake, there always has to be some nasty plot underneath it all, or maybe you just don't know how to be happy."

"Seen all this in your crystal ball have you?"

"I've heard things."

"Then you'll have heard that Victoria's coming back tomorrow. Not that her absence doesn't seem to have made you suffer." Thomas hinted at his behaviour towards the maid who had scampered off, clutching her cheeks to cover their redness.

"I've only seen her a couple of times-" Green began to explain, but Thomas wasn't having any of it, not after the Nanny had caused him trouble. Mr Barrow was indeed on the rampage.

"Yet all they talk about upstairs is you nagging Lord Gillingham to come and visit. I know what kind of impression she makes, and it seems to have worked its magic on you. Unless it's the other maids you're interested in." Thomas waved his eyebrows in the direction of where the young girl had gone.

"That's just a bit of good sport really," Green shrugged, casting a look of muted disapproval, "but I am determined to have someone under the mistletoe later." He gave a dashing smile while straightening his jacket.

"So Victoria-"

"More of a dignified stalking, rather than a hunt." Thomas' eye twitched at the idea of Victoria being referred to as a deer, imagining her being chased away by the maid's blush, though knowing Victoria it would likely induce an angry response as opposed to a passive one.

"You better not be 'hunting' when she arrives tomorrow," Thomas warned, "not if you have intentions with her, not that you have much chance after what you pulled last time." He snubbed justly, compared to the nasty trick Green had pulled on him with Jimmy on his last visit, but Green just screwed up his face, for it was not the first time he had been on a 'dignified stalking'.

"I'm not an idiot, Mr Barrow."

"Aren't you?"

"No. No more than you are. Bet you were disappointed that you got turned down to valet for Mr Blake." Green said slowly, keeping his mouth open hungrily on the utterance of the not unattractive gentleman's name.

"I never asked to." Thomas lied, well- only partly- having tried to stake his claim, but Mr Carson announcing in a low rumble, 'valeting for a man who is barely out of the middle classes is not the work of an under butler of Downton Abbey, Mr Barrow.'

"I should hope so, it's an unusual request from an under butler." Green echoed Mr Carson's objection.

"Be careful about what you're insinuating." Thomas warned, not that he was in any kind of position to deny it and hoped he wasn't cornering himself into a situation where he would have to.

"You're the one insinuating from what I am merely stating."

"Oh, would you look at them? What a pair!" Mrs Patmore cried, having had enough of the two equally matched men of wits when she, like everyone else, wanted to get on and finish her work so she could enjoy the offerings of the day.

"Excuse me?" The two men spoke alongside each other.

"Nothing, just it seems that your wish has come true, Mr Green; you're standing under the mistletoe." Mrs Patmore spluttered before erupting into a fit of hysterics along with all the rest of the gaggle in the kitchen. Thomas' and Green's eyes wandering up above their heads to see the oh so innocent green and white of man's worst enemy and girl's best friend, and it wasn't diamonds.

"Come on then lads, pucker up!" One of the maids in the background piped up, the two men fidgeted, not quite knowing where to put themselves in their embarrassment as the giggling continued. The pair could only give each other a look before shuddering and walking out... in opposite directions.

"I hate Christmas." Thomas came into the servants' hall, scraping a chair back from the table to sit beside Alex, who was absorbed by his newspaper, only rustling the pages and giving a sniff in greeting to his friend and his declaration, "I were just caught under the mistletoe with Green!" Thomas continued nonetheless, "Them lot go on about how they hate people like me and then they whoop and whistle for us to kiss. They ought to bloody make their minds up."

"'What am I reading?' You ask." Alex said, giving no hint that he had heard anything Thomas had said, "I'm reading an article that you should find interesting about an organised gang targeting homosexuals in London."

"Are you listening to a word I'm saying?"

"She was probably trying to make you leave her kitchen." Alex gave up reading his captivating article and folded the newspaper over, revealing his day attire, which Thomas couldn't help but notice made the young man seem more regal than normal, Thomas felt almost inclined to tell Alex to tone down his style, but instead he said in reply to his theory; "I don't think so."

"Did you leave the kitchen?" Alex unfolded the self- satisfied pages of his newspaper at Thomas' silence of affirmation.

"Still, it's creepy." The under butler pointed out, practically feeling bugs crawling under his fingerless gloves and up his arms at the downstair's feline attempts to get him to kiss the rather crude Mr Green.

"Thought you did all the creeping around here?"

"Nah, that's Miss O'Brien."

"Thought I saw her lurking around outside my room." Alex tapped a finger to his chin, having laid down his newspaper, knowing his friend was now willing to participate in a two sided conversation.

"No, that _was_ me." Thomas joked, the pair bursting into small laughter, Thomas drew out a cigarette from his pocket now he found he could relax properly in Alex's company and away from the jibes of the kitchen just rubbing in his face that which he couldn't have when he wanted it. It wasn't fair. Alex was still laughing when he closed the paper and passed it over the under butler.

"Did you want to check the races?"

"Are you sure? Thought you were reading about homophobic gangs?" Thomas took the paper nonetheless and turned to the back pages.

"Ah, so you _were_ listening. You talk a big talk, Mr Barrow, but you do care."

"I care about certain things."

"Like?" Alex pressed, raising his chin in expectation of a very short list of petty cares.

"You, Vic, me job." Thomas blinked behind the wall of his newspaper. "And getting rid of that Nanny." Thomas added to the roll of Alex's eyes.

"Oh dear, what's she done?"

"She needs to learn her place; she's a nasty piece of work."

"You'd know." Alex sighed, contributing a generous smile when Thomas looked at him out the corner of his eyes, not sparing the effort to lower his paper, "What was in your parcel?" Alex added. The parcel had piqued his interest, and the interest of the whole room, when Thomas purposely left the room to open it.

"Nothing important." Thomas cleared his throat, shaking his paper defensively.

Alex nodded in understanding of the under butler's unexplained privacy, "Right. Do you want your present now?"

"You got me a present?"

"Of course. Come under the mistletoe and I'll give it to you." Alex laughed after giving Thomas a moment to look at him in shock. "I'm joking! Green's been using that line all morning. The look on your face." Alex laughed at Thomas' frozen expression of unamusement and relief. "No, here." He pushed a box across the table, unwrapped but a black ribbon tied around it. "I thought of a red ribbon, but after careful consideration decided black was more you."

"I didn't get you anything." Thomas confessed guiltily. Turning the well- presented box in his hand and pulling the end of the ribbon to untie it.

"It's all right. A quickie under the mistletoe will do." Thomas pulled that same face as before, freezing in his action to undo the bow, but Alex held his reserve much longer to make Thomas doubt whether he was joking this time, but, "God, you take things so seriously! You don't have to get me anything, it doesn't suit your renewed 'sod the world' philosophy. Now, open it."

Thomas opened the box and he had a sudden deja vu when he saw inside that exact same pocket watch he had received that very morning, fortunately Alex knew nothing about Jimmy's present so he wouldn't know that he had effectively bought Thomas an irrelevant one, but Thomas wasn't planning to use the watch Jimmy bought him. Instead he took the watch out from its velvet lined case, affixed to its chain, and examined it more closely, knowing he would likely take the back off later to have a better look at the intricate workings of it, this would be the one he used, not the one Jimmy bought him, that was something he could be relieved about. "Alex, I don't know what to say… thank you."

"You're welcome." Alex smiled, not in the least upset that Thomas had not given him anything in exchange, keeping his terrible secret and confessing that he actually cared, _Thomas Barrow_ _cared_ _about him_, even just a little bit, that was enough.

"Did you see me looking at it when we were in Ripon that time?" Thomas asked.

"The drool dangling from your lower lip was a giveaway, you looked comparable to a St Bernard."

"I never. You can't deny it's a beaut." Thomas held the watch to the light, he could even see his reflection in it.

"Of course it is, it's skeleton. Cost me a 'pretty penny' as you English say. I love being able to say that to you now 'as you English say- or do'." Alex said to himself contentedly.

"Thank you, Alex."

The moment was interrupted by a ringing up on the wall. Alex wasn't expected to be called, but Mr Blake said he did not mind being greeted in an informal fashion on Christmas day by his acting valet. "That'll be Mr Blake. Sorry, Thomas." Alex said sympathetically, knowing that Thomas had his sights set on tending to Mr Blake, and unlike with Green Thomas was willing to admit it to Alex.

"Can't believe it; I asked and Carson gave him to you." Thomas stubbed out his cigarette into the ash tray viciously like it were the butler's smug face taunting him, prising him away from any chance of having some fun just because he was 'foul' in his ignorant, intolerant eyes.

"You should have known Mr Carson would think it was funny you asking to valet a handsome man. Of course he's given him to me, besides, he doesn't know about me, does he?" Alex winked from his own advantageous position. Thomas would have put up a fight, or forced Alex to stay down on account of him being improperly dressed, but Thomas knew something Alex didn't, that wasn't written in his housekeeper friend's letter; Mr Blake was engaged, making any hope of some kind of release for him most unlikely and Thomas thought it best to leave it alone, though part of him still yearned for the forgotten feel of tender companionship, which he coveted more than the watch he held in his hand, which he knew he couldn't get from a visitor.

"I guess a watch is all I'm getting this Christmas." Thomas smiled spiritedly.

"Are you having drinks with us later?" Alex sighed, hoping maybe some drinking in a secure environment with good company might release Mr Barrow from his bout of melancholy brought on by Mr Green and the Nanny.

"No, I've got plans." Thomas said with a certain unease tightening his lips.

"With me, myself, and I, is it?"

"Something like that." Thomas answered assuredly, telling Alex not to push him to say more. The nobleman bowed his head at Thomas and went upstairs before he kept Mr Blake waiting any longer. Alex would not ask Thomas to join him and the rest of the servants again that day, certainly he wanted to spend time with the under butler, but their relationship had changed since Thomas revealed his knowledge of Alex's origins, their relationship had passed into the wrong side of comfort and the feeling of vulnerability, it was hard enough when the seams were coming apart at the fabric of their minds, the threads of relaxation and happiness fraying every day by guilt and worry. They were afraid, and that was what made Thomas bend down to little Sybbie, being around someone so small, so innocent, made him feel less ashamed, that he was understood somehow and nothing he did or had done had mattered, only in the words that he gave to the young girl, and the smile he offered her and the effect that that had on him in those moments were important. Moments that he would endeavour to seek out again, once he had gotten rid of Nanny West.

* * *

The day passed in highs and lows, like passages of a book it just cut off in one place and started in another, different situations, different moods, different people, all the time Thomas heard the ticking of his new watch beating against his breast once he affixed it to the pocket of his casual jacket after he had been given the liberty to change, he thought of the note attached to his earlier gift, that teasing reminder of Jimmy, that Jimmy Thomas once knew, that brought him such misery because he dared to care for him. The watch made Thomas believe, despite his adversity, that that Jimmy was still alive.

After supper, while the staff were pulling crackers, exchanging small kisses and bright glances, singing carols and giving thanks, toasting to a New Year and new prospects, Thomas went out. The chill of the night air crept up his spine, the wind swept the ends of his coat and threatened to push the bowler hat from his head, but he raised his shoulders up to his ears and kept his hands in his pockets, the feel of a small bottle of whisky enclosed about his bare fingers. He walked down the slippery planks over the icy waters of the lake and sat down, the ice melting under the heat of his body, but Thomas was already too cold and too wet to care, shoes tapping against the thin pane of ice underneath his toes. The scars on his neck and chest, and the older war wound on his hand gave him trouble, but he shook it off, drawing the bottle of whisky from his pocket and perching it between his knees, waiting to uncap it at the right time. For now he removed his pocket watch and opened the case with a press of a button and it ticked up to eight o'clock, and he waited, knowing in his heart that no one would ever come. What had Jimmy planned for him? What would the night have held for them both? Dangerous questions to ask, questions he was too afraid to answer, but he wanted to know, he wanted to know more than anything. What had he lost when the Duke came into his life? He had lost everything, and gained nothing. Thomas was tired of losing, but men like him always lose, there were no happy endings, no happily ever after, just a seat for one at the end of a cold dock on a dark night, and the most that could be asked for was the sympathetic ear of the whistling wind that would carry his message; a wish for a brighter day tomorrow, and it would whistle back a promise to change his fate.


End file.
